Blessed
by Katelyn852
Summary: An average girl stumbles into the hunting business, and suddenly she's not so average anymore. Original character story. Rated T just to be safe. Revised Chapter 1 is up! Its waaaay better than the original, trust me haha : and if its not, let me know!
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

_Baby blue eyes gazed into mine, causing a smile to break out on my face. Trent, my longest relationship so far, had just taken me out to the local park, where he had laid out a blanket surrounded in candles, so we could watch the sunset. I was so overwhelmed by the romance of it that I quickly brushed away my thoughts of what a fire hazard that was. It was his 'gift' to me in celebration of our seven-month anniversary._

_ Now we were simply sitting together, in a ring of white candles surrounded by a pool of wax. I could feel a fast, fluttery feeling rising from the pit of my stomach. I was ready to say it, to commit myself to Trent in a way that I had never committed myself to anyone else. My mouth opened, ready to say the words 'I love you'. Drawing in a breath, I prepared to lay the truth down for him._

_A slight rustle in the bushes to my left was my only warning before a blurred figure appeared at the edge of the clearing. Whoever it was wore a cape with some sort of hood, pulled down below the eyebrows, so that only a faint flash of violet could be seen of the eyes. Dry, chapped lips were pulled back into a snarl. Candle flames were reflected in the sharp, curved weapon in the figure's right hand._

_I felt my legs shake in fear as Trent and I rose to our feet, unsure of what this person wanted. My heart swelled as I saw Trent edging himself in front of me, as if to block me from the person's sight. I gently laid my left hand on Trent's arm, more afraid than I had ever been. I could see the muscles in Trent's back flex as he drew in breath, presumably to ask what the person wanted._

_To this day, I still have no idea how the next few moments happened. Without taking a step, the figure suddenly appeared about a foot from Trent's face, and suddenly, the jagged edges of his weapon were peeking out from the back of Trent's neck. His now lifeless body collapsed to its knees before slumping to the ground. My scream caught in my throat as I realized that the person's face was turned towards me. Wanting to grieve for the man I loved, but also not wanting to be next, I raised my eyes to meet the figure's._

_A raspy breath rattled out of those bleeding lips and said, "You have been blessed, child." With that, the hand that had previously been holding the weapon came to rest on my forehead. Too terrified to move, I could only stare wide-eyed into those burning indigo eyes. The only word I could think of to describe them was 'demonic'. As I watched, the purple light seemed to drain out of them, and come racing at my face. Unable to pull away or blink, I felt a burning sensation in the back of my eyes. Right about then would be when my knees decided to give out, and my body buckled. I felt my eyes cry out in searing pain once more, and my vision blacked. _

_By the time my eyes finally fluttered open, Trent's body had been found, the police case marked as 'unsolved', I had been unconscious for four days, and my eyes were now the same unearthly shade of the thing that had attacked us. I forced myself to stand there and watch as Trent's closed coffin was lowered into the ground as I fiddled with the promise ring that had been found in his shirt pocket. Thankfully, whoever found it cleaned the blood off of it before they gave it to me._

_ My heart had taken a beating the night Trent died, but I knew I would be okay eventually. Sure, watching any other human die is sad, and he __**was**__ my boyfriend, but it's not like we'd been married and had grandkids. I certainly wouldn't have married him anytime soon either, but apparently Trent thought we were ready to be thinking about it. I don't know. Maybe he didn't mean anything that serious by it. Guess I'll never know now though. He's dead. God, I keep forgetting that._

_I took a deep breath to clear my thoughts. I needed to be getting over Trent, not driving myself to insanity trying to figure out what he was thinking when no one will ever know. To start the 'getting-over-him' process, I had left the promise ring on the cold gray rock of Trent's headstone. My time was now spent looking for the demon that killed Trent. Once I ran through my memories of the…incident, I realized that there was no way that thing had been human. So I used every resource I could think of asking without people getting suspicious. I talked to some of my old college professors, went to the couple different libraries in town, and of course, I Googled._

_I had been researching for maybe three weeks when I felt like I had exhausted every resource I had access to. I hadn't found much. But I had the name of the thing. I went through my notes and put it into one cohesive paper. Maybe if I'd put this much effort into college, I wouldn't have dropped out… Ah well, good riddance. I read through the less than a full page of information I'd found:_

'_The cusith are demons whose origins can only be speculated at. These demons most often attack people in their late teens, though there have been claims of a cusith breaking that pattern, and 'bless' them with supernatural abilities. The blessing is always given through the death of a loved one. The cusith's weapon is a variant of the scythe. It is a short-handled weapon with a curved blade, almost to the point of being a hook. However, there are a few reports from people who claim that the demon broke pattern and attacked them in their twenties. They claim that there were serrations on the spine of the blade._

_The cusith appear in the form of a male figure in a ratted, hooded cloak. The most distinctive feature of the cusith are their eyes. They are a shade of purple, and are said to 'burn with the hellfire of Lucifer himself'. When a teen is blessed by the cusith, their eyes take on the coloring of the cusith's. Although the teens are granted these abilities by a demon, none of the abilities are inherently evil. Some of the most common abilities are premonitions, telekinesis, advanced healing, and pyrokinesis. It's unsure why these demons would choose to give their victims these abilities. The leading guess is that they just feel like screwing with people._

_Although these demons tend to be pretty low on the food chain of demons (because they've never hatched any big plots and just go about their business) they do have one advantage, or perhaps disadvantage, over the more powerful demons – they hold their own form, and therefore cannot be exorcised. Holy water, however, is still very effective. Holy water must be blessed using a crucifix and by chanting a Latin phrase over the water._

_The 'symptoms' of an imminent demon attack are: cattle mutilations, electrical storms, and wildly fluctuating weather in or around the area of attack. These signs would appear at least two weeks before the arrival of the demon.'_

_Ok, so I had found information that pointed to the existence of demons. Now what? Was this information enough to satisfy my curiosity? I could just go back to normal life now? The answer to that was definitely no. So what was I going to do? Go fight the good fight and save people from the same thing I went through? As ridiculous as that sounded, part of me thought 'Why not? What else am I waiting around for?'. I wasn't in any relationships, wasn't in school, nor did I have any mommy/daddy issues. So what? I was going to become some sort of demonic hunter? Well. I always did want to learn how to shoot…_

Present Day (About three months later)

So I packed up my bags and hit the road in my white '81 Spitfire. It wasn't too long after that day that I also found my way to learning about the existence of spirits and other creatures. I went out to shooting ranges and learned how to shoot. When I could hit a penny from 30 yards away, I went out and got myself a slew of guns.

My parents were funding me, even though they didn't know what the money was being used for. They thought I just 'needed time' after Trent, which wasn't really a lie. It's not like I was out murdering people. If anyone got hurt it would probably be me. It was highly probable I would die on my first attempt at a 'job'. I brushed that thought aside, deciding that it was important for me to help protect people from what they didn't even know existed.

Luckily, my parents had enrolled me in self defense since I was nine, so I already had a fourth degree black belt in Aam Ka Jutsu under my, well, belt. I trained for weeks on end, fine-tuning my senses, learning hand-to-hand combat with a knife and of course my hands, practicing knife throwing, and archery. Eventually I was able to do some serious damage to guys bigger than I was. I also started writing down the things I learned about demons, spirits, and other supernatural creatures. I wrote down exorcisms, ways to vanquish a spirit, anything I might come across. Then I kept my eyes and ears open, which is how I found out about the job I was about to attempt. It was simple, it was my first, and it was, very possibly, my last.

And that was how I ended up in Lawrence, Kansas, and the farthest I'd ever been from my home in Fresno, California. I was leaning against my car looking across the street at a daunting and all around creepy house. Many of the windows were broken and the house could really use a coat of paint. The only reason anybody would be contemplating the house was if they knew what I did: that a vengeful spirit had decided to set up shop within the wooden walls.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

I looked over the research I had done about this house. Every family that had taken up residence in the house had been brutally murdered within a month. The official autopsies gave evidence that they all fell from a great height, as nearly every bone in their body had been shattered, fractured, or dislocated. But all the families had been found in their beds, tucked in tight, as if they had simply fallen asleep. All doors and windows were locked from the inside, there were no signs of forced entry, and there were no foreign fingerprints. The neighbors had simply gone over to check on them one day because they hadn't seen them in a while, and when they didn't get any response, they called the police.

When I saw these reports, I drove myself all the way out here to Lawrence, Kansas, and checked out the history of the house. I found out these deaths had been taking place ever since a little girl fell from the roof back in 1977. It was now 2009. According to my new wealth of knowledge, this indicated that there was a spirit in the house, most likely the little girl's. In my notebook, I had written down that to get rid of spirits, you had to salt and burn the bones of the spirit.

My plan was to get in the house, make sure that the spirit really was the little girl's, and then go find her body. I took in a deep breath before I pushed off the side of my car and walked up to the door. The house should have been vacant, but just to make sure, I knocked and called out that my name was Alex Page and I was interested in buying the house, and would like to take a look at the inside. I figured I might as well use my real name in case someone was in there and decided to check my ID or something.

I waited for about a minute or two before I slowly turned the doorknob and took a wary step over the threshold. I stood there for a full thirty seconds before I felt sure nothing was going to jump me. Taking a slightly more confident step inside, I closed the door behind me and cautiously looked around the room. It looked like it was probably the parlor, judging by the high, vaulted ceiling and the hard tile that clicked under my boots.

Walking forward, I took note of the stairs to my left, the sitting room to my right and what was most likely the kitchen straight ahead. I walked into the kitchen, turning so I could see all of the room. I was about to move on to the sitting room when I heard what sounded like a faint slicing sound to my right. Glancing towards the corner of the kitchen, I pulled a quick double take as a large knife slowly slid out of its place in the knife block. At the angle it was in, I could see my wide eyes reflected in the blade.

Only about a second passed before I dodged behind a row of cabinets and heard the solid _thunk_ as the knife embedded itself into the wall behind where I was just standing. Not taking any chances, I crouched low to the ground and darted back out into the parlor and sprinted up the stairs. Stupid, I know. I should have been running out of there, but I still had to identify the spirit. I didn't want to be burning five different sets of bones.

Stopping when I got to the landing, I found myself in a long hallway filled with about ten doors. Before I could begin to try and figure out which room I should look in, all of the doors started swinging wildly on their hinges. Ok, so the spirit knew exactly where I was. _Great,_ I thought. _That only makes this about ten times scarier._ I walked slowly down the hall; ready for anything the spirit might literally throw at me next. That was when I noticed that one door was staying firmly shut. There didn't seem to be anything particularly unique about it. It was the same standard white as all the other doors. Then suddenly a thought occurred to me. _What if the spirit wants me to go in there?_ I walked to the door, legs shaking, and prayed that I wasn't about to die on my first job.

I threw the door open, ready to dodge knives or any other injurious objects the spirit wanted to play with. When nothing appeared to be flying at me, I stepped into the room and stopped short at the sight before me. Sitting on the ground, surrounded by little dolls, was a pale little girl with long black pigtail braids. She wore a white dress with a black sash around her waist. Worried that she was in danger, I stepped forward and crouched down, ready to carry her out of here if the spirit decided to pop up.

"Hi. My name's Alex. We need to get you out of here, alright?"

I waited for any response from her, but she just ignored me and kept playing with her dolls. Thinking that she might not have heard me, I stretched out my hand and placed it lightly on her shoulder. She slowly turned her head towards me, her eyes downcast. When she suddenly jerked her face up to look at me, I snatched my hand away and jumped back about two feet. Her eyes were a deathly white, and she had a malicious smile on her small round face.

"Oh hello, Alex. Won't you tuck me into bed?"

Even though I was scared out of my wits, I still felt a flash of confusion cross my face. She wanted to be tucked in? Not sure if this was normal for spirits to do, I slowly backed out of the room. The second I felt my back hit the door jam I turned and sprinted down the hall towards the stairs. All I had to do now was get out of the house. As I ran, I ran through a mental list of things I knew about spirits. They couldn't cross a salt line. _That doesn't help me, the salt is still in the trunk! What else is there? _ _Iron repels spirits!_ I thought back to the sitting room. Maybe the fireplace tools were iron! It was a long shot, sure, but it was my only one. If the spirit somehow kept me from getting out of the house, that's where I was running next.

I finally reached the end of the hall and could see the top of the stairs. When I saw the landing, I jerked to a halt. The little girl was standing there, clearly waiting for me. She tilted her head to one side, and seemed to enjoy the fact that she had so evidently shocked me.

"My last visitors didn't want to tuck me in either. For some reason they just wouldn't get out of bed. I guess getting thrown off a roof will do that to you."

The spirit raised her little girl hand towards me then swung it back over the stairs. Next thing I know, I'm flying over the little girls head and tumbling down the steps. I felt my bum hit the tile of the parlor particularly hard, before I slid backwards and felt my spine hit the edge of the door. My head, keeping up with my previous momentum, slammed into the wall behind me.

My hand rose shakily to my head and came back sticky with blood. I peered up the staircase through my mass of blonde curls, but didn't see the spirit anywhere. I scrambled to my feet, and feeling the doorknob digging into my back, I flung the door open and ran out into the sunlight.

I didn't stop running until I was across the street leaning against my car, panting heavily. I looked back to the house, and saw the little girl standing at one of the broken windows. The numerous families that had been thrown either through those windows or off the roof, and then tucked back into their beds, ran across my mind.

Fury rose in my chest as the little girl giggled and waved at me. I got into my car and quickly opened up my laptop. As soon as it was up and running, I looked up where the little girl had been buried. I wrote down the address, and smugly turned back to the spirit. _Enjoy your last day on Earth, little girl._

I sped off towards the cemetery, pushing my car as fast as she would go. I wanted this spirit laid to rest as soon as possible. When I finally reached the cemetery gates, my dimmed headlights showed that there appeared to be no one else here. Grateful I wouldn't have to wait till tomorrow night to get rid of Cynthia, I turned off the car and walked around my car to the trunk. I filled a duffel bag with the standard salt and burn materials: a flashlight, a brand new can of gasoline, a cylinder of Morton rock salt, and a box of matches. I slung it over my shoulder, which was still a little sore from falling down those stairs. Grabbing the shovel last and slamming the trunk lid shut, I considered how I was going to get through the gates. They were a little higher than my chest. It seemed like my only choice was up and over.

I heaved the duffel and the shovel over the iron bars and took a few steps back for a running start. I took off at a dead run, grabbed the cold metal and vaulted over the blunt spikes, which brushed slightly against my rib cage. Landing in a crouch on the grass, I let a breath of air out through my clenched teeth. One of the spikes had gotten pretty close to my back, and it was still tender from getting flung all over the place, courtesy of the spirit.

I walked through the cemetery, sweeping my flashlight from left to right, looking for the little girl's name. _Cynthia Merchant, Cynthia Merchant, Cynthia Merchant… _I finally found the headstone I was looking for. Dropping the duffel a few feet away and removing my favorite cranberry leather jacket, I started to dig up the bones of Cynthia Merchant. Seeing as how I was injured pretty badly and fighting off dizziness, it took me about an hour and a half to finally dig all the way down to the coffin. I was starting to regret my decision to drive off to the cemetery without wrapping my head wound first. I cracked open the coffin and was greeted by a small child-sized skeleton.

"Hello Cynthia. How are you today?"

Making a mental note to work on my witty back talk, I pulled out the 'ingredients' of a spirit cocktail, one by one. First, I poured about a quarter of the can of salt over all the bones, making sure I got every one. Then, I doused the bones with gasoline and lit a match. I dropped the burning flame into the grave and stood back. When all the bones were completely turned to ash, I smiled in satisfaction. _That was easy enough._

I packed up my bag, grabbed my shovel and jumped back over the gates. I was about to get into the car, when I realized I was almost completely covered in dirt, and there was no way I was staining the seat of my car. I pulled an empty duffel from the trunk and used it as a barrier between the seat and the mud all over my clothes. Once in the car, I wondered what I was supposed to do next. I was sure I had done the salting and burning correctly, but I wanted to go back to the house and be sure I was successful. A throb of pain from the back of my head made my decision for me. My head, at least, needed attention. I put the car into gear and pulled away from the cemetery.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Driving back to the motel room I had rented, I started to realize how tired and sore I really was. My back all the way down to my bum was sore, my head was throbbing, and I thought I could feel my head wound still trickling blood, which had now dripped all the way down my neck. I parked the Spitfire in the completely empty parking lot that was bathed in the neon glow from the vacancy sign on top of the motel.

Digging my room key out of the pocket on the inside of my jacket, I opened the pastel green door, and by the way, EW. I mean, if you're trying to attract customers, why would you paint your doors in a color that could, at best, be described as 'puke'? Quickly abandoning my thoughts about the door, I threw the key on the table; my jacket on the bed, and dead bolted the door behind me.

I walked into the bathroom, flipped on the light, and when I looked in the mirror, I almost didn't recognize my self. The hair on the back of my head was stained crimson with blood, and when I rolled up my tank top and looked at my back, I could see bruises forming from my shoulders down all the way to below the top of my pants. _Great. _I thought. _Those are going to be tons of fun for the next few days._

I couldn't see the injury on the back of my head, so all I could do was check that it had stopped bleeding and take a shower to wash away the blood. When the blood was gone, I felt around the wound, but only found a big bump with a slight scratch. I thought for sure that with all the blood and dizziness that there would have been more than that. _Maybe I'm just an easy bleeder_. Shrugging off my concerns, I set about the room putting up salt lines at every door and window; just to make sure there was no way any spirits could enter. As soon as I lay down on the bed, I could feel the events of the day overcome me, so I closed my eyes and quickly fell asleep.

When I woke up the next morning, I was sore from the beating I had taken the day before, but it wasn't as bad as I thought it should have been with how bad the bruises looked last night. When I remembered that today was the day I had planned to go back to the house and make sure the spirit was gone for sure, I brushed aside my thoughts about my back. With a grin, I quickly showered and threw on a t-shirt and jeans.

I hopped into the Spitfire and took off for the house. This time I went into the house prepared. I had a rifle filled with rock salt rounds, a handy tip I had picked uo on some ghost hunting website, the 'Ghostchasers' or something like that. Supposedly, they would repel spirits. Along with the gun, I had a knife made of iron in a sheath tucked into my belt loop. The spirit wouldn't be able to be stabbed of course but it hopefully wouldn't come after me directly when it saw I had iron.

I entered the house with the rifle poised at eye level, ready to shoot. I swung it back and forth across every room I came to, but the little girl was a no-show. Satisfied that the spirit was definitely no longer in the house, I walked out, this time in a leisurely stroll since I was no longer running for my life. As I was loading the rifle into the trunk, I realized I was missing my flashlight. I figured I must have forgotten it at the cemetery. _Maybe I should go get it…_ Before going back to get it, I took a moment to reflect on what I'd just accomplished.

I had made it through my first hunt! Of course, I hadn't come out of it completely unscathed, but I was alive, and that was more than good enough for me. I leaned against the hood of my only remaining friend. All my other friends thought I was taking a road trip to nowhere, which was technically true, seeing as how I never knew where I was going to end up next. My plan was to simply keep an eye on the newspapers and reports for signs of a demon or a spirit and just hunt what I could find. And here, in Lawrence, Kansas, I had finished my first job.

Climbing into the Spitfire, I felt my stomach rumble. I was so excited to come to the house that I had forgotten to eat something. Deciding that I should 'treat' myself, I skipped over the fast food that was my usual feast and stopped in at a small diner, planning to go get my flashlight after I ate. When I walked into the room, the small bell over the door chimed, drawing the attention of everyone in the joint. Luckily, there weren't that many people in there and they all went back to their business after a quick cursory glance in my direction. All of them, that is, with the exception of a man in the back corner of the room.

He was sitting across from another, much taller man, with long floppy hair and a blue hoodie. The men had a small similarity that hinted at a familial relation. Brothers, maybe. The tall one went back to his breakfast like the majority of the diner, leaving the other guy staring at me. He had a sense of ruggedness to him, and it was clear he didn't have an easy life. His short-cropped hair was spiked, and he seemed to have nondescript brown eyes. He was also smirking at me in a suggestive way, which was starting to tick me off.

Rolling my eyes, I took a seat on the other side of the room and looked out the window. A truly beautiful sight greeted me. A black '67 Chevy Impala was glinting in the sunlight. I'd always had a thing for old American muscle cars, and that certainly hadn't changed when the rest of my life had. Wanting to go and get a better look at it, I decided to forgo breakfast for the time being. I walked out of the doors as fast as I could without looking like an idiot.

When I neared the dazzling sight, I held my hand out over the car, not daring to touch it, for fear of harming it in some way. I was probably only standing like that for about thirty seconds before the short haired man from before came running out of the diner towards me. He was no longer smirking, but looked dead serious. I quickly retracted my hand, in case he was running out to yell at me for almost touching his car. Turns out I was right.

"Hey! Hands off the car, sweetheart!" he yelled. He was also pointing at me in an angry, accusatory way. Which did _not_ make me happy.

"Excuse me? Do you need glasses or something? I didn't touch your car." I asserted. Who was this guy to yell at me? If I had touched the car then sure, he could yell at me, but I hadn't.

"Whatever, you were thinking about it. Now, please, could you take a couple steps back, or would you like to lose your hand?" He gave me a tight smile to show he was joking. Kind of. I held my hands up and took a few steps back. As I did, I glanced again at the car, this time seeing a duffel bag filled to the brim with muddy clothes. Then I saw the handgun on the floor and the hilt of the hunting knife sticking out from the bag.

"Well, it isn't that I'm not enjoying this lovely conversation, but I need food. Excuse me." I cast another quick glance at the weapons and walked quickly into the diner, hoping he wouldn't notice the real reason for my quick escape. I brushed past him with a quick smile, hoping he wouldn't realize that I was just trying to get out of there as quickly as possible.

I was about to open the door when it swung toward me. The floppy-haired guy stepped out. At first I was afraid he had come out to back up the other guy or something, but when he simply held the door open for me, I nodded and stepped around him. I heard the shorter guy swear and realized he must have figured out why I was in such a hurry to get away from him.

"Sammy, wait! Stop her!" I heard him yell from behind me.

When the tall man grabbed my arm, I guess I might've _maybe_ freaked and overreacted a little. I turned and threw a solid punch into his gut. When he doubled over, I walked quickly back into the diner and sat down in an empty booth, hoping the crazy serial killer guys wouldn't shoot me in front of other people, at least not before I could dial 911. I had just pulled my cell phone out of my jacket pocket when the shorter one threw himself into the seat across from me. I kept an eye on the tall one limping over from the door and pulled my arm back, ready to throw my cell phone into the short guy's face until I realized that he wasn't looking at me in an 'I'm-going-to-kill-you' way.

He held up his hands and, giving my cell phone a wary look, said, "Wait wait, let me explain, you didn't see what you think you did." He paused and thought for a moment. "Okay so you did, but it's not what you think it is! Please, I can explain. My name is Dean Winchester. That sasquatch of a guy you just slugged is my brother, Sam"


	4. Chapter 4

AN: People are actually reading this! Yay! Now I understand why authors say that reviews make them happy. They do! Thank you everybody for reading! If you guys catch a mistake or you think something reads awkwardly or anything like that, please let me know. I want to make this as good of a story as i can.

Chapter 4

As Sam walked towards us, I noticed he walked with a slight limp. I looked back to Dean and he had a swollen cut on his right cheek that I hadn't noticed at first.

"You guys look a little beat up. Try to grab women often?" I asked. Sam gave an amused haflf-smile, but Dean looked offended.

"Do I look like I need to grab them? They simply fall at my feet." He said. I looked him over. _Nope._ _He definitely does not need to grab women. They probably flock to him in droves._

"Well then why did you feel a need to order him to grab me? You could have saved him what looks like quite a bit of pain." I glanced to Sam and he gingerly touched his abdomen and winced. _Score for me._ I thought smugly. I guess my training had paid off more than I realized.

"Because you must have missed the memo, darlin'. Someone forgot to tell you that you think I'm handsome and charming. Don't worry about it, I can remind you pretty fast. Besides, he's fine. Aren't ya, Sammy?" Dean shot Sam a smirk that clearly said, 'agree with me or experience more pain'. Sam tried to give a smile and a nod, but his smile could really only be described as a grimace.

"I'm sorry, Sam. It must be horrible to have to be related to him. I'm Alex Page." I gave Sam a warm smile to show him that I really was sorry. Dean again looked offended, but I pointedly ignored him.

"Don't worry about it, Alex. I shouldn't have grabbed you. I didn't know my brother just wanted to flirt with you, otherwise I would have gladly held him back instead of you." Sam said. I laughed softly at his words and suddenly tensed. _How long has it been since someone made me laugh?_ I thought. The training I had done hadn't allowed any chance for friends, and I wasn't expecting to have any steady friends in this business. I glanced uneasily at the boys, hoping they hadn't caught my sudden stiffness. They had. They both wore a suspicious look on their faces.

"Somethin' wrong?" Dean asked. His voice was casual, but there was a tightening around his eyes and mouth, that showed he was wary for some reason.

"No! No. I'm fine. Just um...hungry." I said in a cheery voice, hoping they would just accept it and move on. An unsure look passed between them, but they let my excuse slide. I gestured for them to sit in the seat across from me and they did. "So are you guys locals?" I asked.

"Well, kind of. We lived here as kids, but we moved when there was a fire in our house that took our mom." Sam answered. Dean suddenly seemed much older, his face creased with sorrow and worry. He clearly had cared for his mother a lot and hadn't yet gotten over her death.

"Oh. I'm sorry for your loss. I recently lost someone special to me, as well. That's actually why I'm here. Or at least that's why I left California. But why did you guys come back? I don't think I can bear to go back home." I said. I couldn't understand it. Why would you go back to the place that would bring up painful memories?

"We're kind of on a road trip. This town happened to be where we ended up next. Why would you come to Lawrence?" Dean asked. As soon as he said the words 'road trip', a crazy idea came to mind. They couldn't be…could they? They certainly looked like they had the muscle for it. I thought through my next words carefully. How could I say what I was trying to without sounding like a crazy person?

"I'm on a road trip too. I'm going through different towns…I'm uh…hunting." I watched their face for any kind of reaction. I wasn't disappointed. Their eyes widened so slightly that I would have missed it if I hadn't been looking for it. That was when a young waitress finally came and brought me a menu. I asked only for a cup of coffee, as the excitement of possibly finding other hunters had taken away my appetite. As soon as she walked away, I quickly looked back to the boys.

They seemed to have used the time it took me to order coffee to deliberate amongst them. Both of them were looking squarely at me and seemed very determined, which made me almost scared. They wasted no time in getting straight to the point.

"What are you hunting?" Dean asked with a fake smile on his face. To anyone else it may have seemed like a normal question. But to someone who knew about the supernatural world, it was a clever way to find other hunters. I quickly brushed aside the voice in the back of my head that told me it might be unwise to let these total strangers in on my new life. I looked them both in the eyes before taking a deep breath, and steeling myself.

"Oh, some pretty rare _creatures_. I had to do quite a bit of _digging_ to find them." I said in an off-handed way, hoping they would pick up on the words I had placed an almost comical amount of stress on. They seemed to get it, or at least Sam did. He turned to Dean and gave a small nod. This confirmed my thought that they were hunters as well. I was so full of relief and happiness that I wasn't crazy and that there were other people out there risking their lives.

The waitress came back at that moment with my coffee, so I thanked and paid her so I could leave at a moment's notice if I had to. I still didn't completely trust the Winchesters. Sure they seemed nice enough, but I wasn't one to automatically trust a pretty face. And these boys had some _very _pretty faces.

I slumped back in my seat and drank some coffee while they whispered furiously to each other. To give them some privacy, I quietly excused myself to the bathroom, which they were too busy to even acknowledge. In the bathroom, I fixed my hair and makeup and checked that the dagger I constantly carried up my sleeve was clear and would slide out easily with a small hand maneuver. When I ran out of things to keep myself preoccupied, I figured they had had enough time to yell at each other, so I walked out to my table and sat down. They both gave me a small smile before Sam nudged Dean, who was apparently the more dominant brother.

"We would like to discuss this in more detail with you, but this is not the place for it." Dean said. He clearly had practiced that line, as it was so stiff and formal, and he didn't seem like that kind of guy. I nodded, and we all stood up and walked outside. We stood next to the Impala and the boys suggested, or more accurately demanded, that I follow them back to their motel. I got into the Spitfire, and trailed behind the Impala for about 5 minutes before we pulled off the road and into the parking lot of a dingy motel that looked worse than mine did. I swung my legs out of the car and stood up, only to be greeted by a pair of gaping mouths and wide eyes.

"What?" I asked as I firmly shut the door behind me.

"_That's _your car?" Dean asked, pointing at my car. Really, what was with this guy and pointing?

"Yeeees…?" I replied slowly. Was there something wrong with my baby? I quickly glanced her over but she looked fine to me. I looked back at them with a questioning glance.

"She's beautiful." Dean said, clearly awed. As he turned to follow Sam into their room, I felt a strange sense of pride that this man approved of my car. But that was just because I loved her, right? _Of course._ I told myself,_ there's no way you like this random stranger._ _It's just a silly attraction. It'll go away as soon as you leave for another hunt...I think._


	5. Chapter 5

AN: So i've noticed that my chapters were getting shorter, so to fix this, i'm now going to start combining two chapters. This chapter was originally chapters 5 and 6, but now its longer, so yeah. Just felt like telling you guys that. Alright. Enjoy! Let me know what you think!

Chapter 5

As soon as I got seated on the bed, the boys began their questioning. I was on one bed, Dean was on the other bed across from me, and Sam was sitting at the table in the kitchen area of the room with his laptop open. I had just filled them in on my hunt, and Sam was checking my research to make sure that I had disposed of the spirit properly.

At least that's what I thought he was doing, until he called Dean over and they both stared at the laptop screen for a few minutes, occasionally glancing at me. Finally, I couldn't stand their silent glances anymore.

"What?! Did I get it or not?" I asked irritably. They at least had the decency to look slightly sheepish. Or was that guilt on their faces? I walked cautiously to the table, and when I noticed that they wouldn't look me in the eye I got worried. What could they have possibly read that would cause that kind of reaction? I slowly turned the laptop toward me, unsure of what I was about to see.

When I saw Trent's obituary, I almost started crying all over again. There were two pictures in the article. One was of Trent as a child with his parents. The other was of Trent and I, at the park where he was killed. Our friend Cody had taken it about 2 months before Trent's death. Somehow he had gotten a shot of us mid-kiss. I remembered that kiss. It was the first time he said that he loved me. And I couldn't truthfully say it back. A single tear escaping my eye surprised me, but I pretended to fix my hair and wiped it away hopefully before either of the guys noticed.

"A cusith came to bless me, and it killed Trent. Now you know." I said coldly. I could understand their want to research me to make sure I was who I said I was, but I was upset and surprised that Trent's death could still affect me like this. I had tried desperately to leave my past behind me in Oregon, which meant thinking about Trent as little as possible.

"I'm sorry. My girlfriend…Jess…She died about a month ago. A demon got her, too. That's why I joined back up with Dean and we both started hunting again." Sam said. His voice was so full of pain…no, agony that I almost started crying for him too. Instead, I shakily extended my hand and gently raised his chin. When his tear-filled eyes met mine, I gave him a small smile.

"Thank you." I whispered. And I meant it more than anything I had said in my whole life. Sam gave me a caring smile, and I was shocked to see that he cared about me already. Not in a romantic way, of course. Neither of us was ready for that. It was more of a brotherly concern, and it was so genuine that for a moment I felt like I had known Sam for a lifetime, instead of a little under an hour.

I hoped that this new understanding we shared would strengthen any chance of a possible friendship between the boys and me. Living these past few months on my own had shown me that I had taken my friends for granted. I missed having confidantes and partners in crime. I didn't want to be alone anymore.

This new revelation caught me so unexpectedly that this time I wasn't surprised to feel tears streaming down my cheeks. A strangled sob escaped my throat as I dumped the past three months of grief and loneliness on this boy I had just met. I was about to apologize when I suddenly felt strong arms wrap around my shoulders and guide me to the bed.

Sam sat me down on the edge, then lowered himself to sit next to me. As I leaned into his chest, I felt his tears drop onto the top of my head. I realized that he had probably been holding his emotions in for too long as well, and this was probably as good for him as it was for me. After a few more minutes of just letting it out, Sam and I seemed to have fully exhausted our tear ducts. That's when I realized that I hadn't seen Dean in a while.

I mentioned this to Sam, who said that since Dean didn't really deal well with emotions, he had left around the time Sam started talking about Jess. We stood up, and after a quick hug, he left to go find Dean while I went to the bathroom and cleaned myself up. And wow, did I need it.

My hair was mussed, my eyes had dark circles around them, as well as being red and puffy. _Lovely._ I thought. _I better clean myself up before Dean gets back. _I froze. Dean? Why did I care if Dean saw me like this? I wasn't interested in him; I had only just met him for Pete's sake! I searched wildly for another reason. Oh! I didn't want Dean to see me like this because I didn't want him to think I was a weak, unstable wuss. Yes, I could deal with that.

As soon as I looked halfway decent, I left the bathroom and saw Sam and Dean sitting on the bed, talking quietly. When I stepped meekly into the room, they both looked up, Sam with a smile on his face. I smiled gently back at him, but turned my eyes anxiously to Dean, who had a considering look on his face. I wasn't exactly sure what he would need to be thinking over so seriously, so I simply walked over and sat silently on the bed across from them. Sam was giving Dean a pleading look, but when Dean rolled his eyes and waved his hand in a 'take it away' gesture, Sam looked excitedly at me.

"What's goin on?" I asked in a suspicious tone.

"Well… Dean and I have been talking, and we were wondering if…um…" Sam chuckled nervously. What could he possibly be so worried about? I looked to Dean, hoping he might have an answer for me. He sighed and shook his head. Looking down at his boots, he quickly ran his hands through his short hair before looking back up at me.

"Alexandra Page, would you join us on the road?" He asked with an almost humorous smirk.

I said nothing, as my mind had gone completely numb, so I simply sat there in shock. Which, might I add, includes my mouth hanging open. Lovely, I know.

"I'm sorry, w- what? I'm pretty sure I misheard you." I stuttered. They wanted me with them on the road? Why?

"We would like for you to join us on the road. Kind of be like a third member of our hunting party. Whaddaya say, Alex?" Sam said this hesitantly.

"But…why?" I asked. I was fine on my own. I had proved that with the ghost of Cynthia Merchant, hadn't I?

"Sam figures it'd be good to have a third person with us. It's safer than you by yourself and just the two of us. We also think we could help you when the abilities the cusith blessed you with kick in, seeing as Sam here gets premonitions. Seems to us like a win-win situation for everyone." Dean said all this with a smile that was slightly forced. He believed everything he had just said, but he seemed reluctant to admit it.

"As much as this seems like a great idea to me, there are a few problems. Like my car. What would I do with her? It seems redundant to have both cars with us when we hunt. Also, I'm not exactly experienced with all of this. Sam implied earlier that you guys have been doing this for a while?" I asked.

"Well our dad raised us to be hunters after my mom was killed by a demon. That's why we moved around a lot. We were following jobs, Alex. We've been hunting ever since we were mature enough to wield a dagger without stabbin the crap out of each other. Sam took a break and went to Stanford for a couple of years, where he met Jess. When the same demon that killed our mom came and killed Jess, he found me and we've been hunting together ever since." Dean answered.

"Wow. Cynthia Merchant was my first job. I only trained for like two and a half months. You guys have probably vanquished all sorts of things. My inexperience would be a hindrance on a hunt." I noted that as I said this my heart felt heavier and heavier. _I want to go with them._ I realized.

"We can train you. You won't find anyone better than us! We're your guys!" As Sam said this, he slung an arm around Dean, wearing a goofy grin. Dean looked indifferent to what was going on.

Feeling my own lips tugging into a smile, I thought everything over. I could definitely use more training, and it was highly unlikely I would ever find any other hunters who were willing to put up with me. I could have true friends in this lonely business, and I would be loads safer having experienced hunters covering my back. I was certainly only seeing positives all around.

"Okay. Okay. We could do this. It could work." I said. As soon as the words left my lips, Sam reached across the gap between the beds and grasped me in a huge bear hug.

"Thank you, Alex. Motel tv gets annoying when you have to watch it every night when your brother's out with his latest one night stand." Sam said. I looked over Sam's shoulder at Dean, something I could only accomplish because Sam was holding me off the ground, but Dean just rolled his eyes at Sam's words.

"At least, _I'm_ not gassy…" Dean muttered. This made me laugh aloud, and I had a feeling that it was going to become a more common occurrence.

When Sam finally set me down, I left so I could go back to my motel and check out, seeing as how the boys were already gearing up to leave for another job. I went into my room, but I was so caught up in emotion that my old clumsiness acted up, and I tripped over a rug on the floor. _Stupid rug._ I grumbled to myself. I picked myself up off the floor and started around the room, picking up all my belongings.

I thought over the events that had taken place in the past two hours, and I felt so definably happy that I felt like I should be flying. When I closed my eyes and pictured Sam, Dean, and I in the Impala, my heart soared. I had friends! I sounded like such a geeky seventh grader that I simply had to laugh at myself.

Sighing, I was about to open my eyes when I suddenly felt something connect solidly with the top of my head. My eyes shot open and I looked up to find myself with my nose to the ceiling. _What the crap?!_ I thought. I hesitantly glanced down, and nearly shrieked at the sight I saw.

I was about three feet off the ground, and my boots had a soft purple glow under them. _Wait a minute._ I thought back to the article I had read on the cusith a few months back. It had said that the cusith bless humans with special abilities. _Well I think levitation definitely falls under the 'special abilities' column._

That was when I realized I had no idea how to get down. Unsure for a moment on what to do, I simply hovered there. I tried to remember what I was thinking about when I had found myself up here. _'Sam and Dean. Friendship. Happiness.' _I realized. It seemed that it had stemmed from my happy thoughts. _Wow, Peter Pan, much? _I thought.

I remembered my sadness as I left behind my life in Oregon, and I immediately started descending. When my feet finally touched down, I resumed my packing, this time in a frenzy. I had to tell Sam and Dean! Remembering to keep myself from focusing too much on my happiness, I drove back to Sam and Deans motel as fast as I could without breaking the speed limit.

After what seemed like forever, I finally reached the other motel. As my baby rolled to a stop, I threw open my door and barreled into the boys motel room. Unfortunately, the boys had been in the process of changing into more comfortable clothing for the long drive ahead of us, and it was just my luck that I had charged into the room as Dean had been changing his shirt.

I allowed myself a quick scan of the _very_ defined chest of Dean Winchester before I slapped a hand over my eyes and marched myself right back out the door. Or, attempted to, that is. In my effort to get out of the room in a hurry, I had slammed headlong into the door jam, and suddenly found myself sitting on the ground with a once-again sore bum.

"Ouch." I groaned. I heard a low chuckle somewhere off to my right and a snicker from behind me. I started with a jolt when I remembered why I had been trying to run out the door in the first place.

"Oh! Um…sorry, I was just a little excited, and, um…I'm going to go now." This time I reached out a hand and confirmed where the door was before blindly running off into the afternoon heat. Absolutely sure my face was a bright tomato red, I sat on the curb next to the Impala, and found that I was having trouble keeping a certain someone's chest out of my mind._ Bad Alex._ I scolded myself. Forcing myself to stop acting like a schoolgirl obsessed with her first crush, I stood up and started pacing around the parking lot, trying to get my face to return to its normal color.

After I had completed quite a few turns around the parking lot, I finally heard the boys emerge from their room, both of them carrying a heavy canvas duffel bag over their shoulders. Realizing that those bags probably carried a slew of weaponry along with clothes and amenities, I looked more closely at the boys. Through their t-shirts and jackets (or in Sam's case, a hoodie) I could see more definition than I had originally thought was there.

_Well of course they're muscular Alex, they've been hunting the supernatural all of their lives._ I chided. When I walked over to the Impala, Sam told me about a friend of theirs, Bobby Singer, who would keep my baby well taken care of for me while I was on the road with the boys. I chanced a glance at Dean, who was smirking at me again, and my face flamed up as I remembered how what was actually under Dean's shirt.

"Since I'm assuming you weren't running into our room to catch me without a shirt on, care to tell us what was so important?" Dean said. I narrowed my eyes at him before I was caught up again in my excitement over having a newfound ability.

I took a deep breath, mumbled 'fine', and glanced around the parking lot to make sure no one was peering out their windows at us. _Well, here goes nothing_ was my last thought before I let my happiness from the past few hours consume me, and my lips curved upward into a smile as I felt my feet lift from the ground. When I felt I had properly shown off my new ability, I let the happiness drain from my body and I slowly descended toward the boys, who were gathered around the trunk.

I was once again treated to an exclusive look inside the Winchester's mouths.


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or Twilight

Chapter 6

"Lovely, boys, just lovely." I remarked as I reached under the chins and closed their mouths for them, as they seemed incapable of doing so. I had never before realized how amusing boys could be. Both boys' faces were confused and shocked, and their mouths were working overtime as well as their brains as far as I could tell. They tried to stutter out questions for a full minute and a half before Dean finally got one word out.

"What?" it sounded more like a whine than a question. Maybe he felt left out since he was the only one without abilities? Oh well, he was undoubtedly the best hunter out of all of us so he couldn't really complain. I think Sam and I were going to need our abilities to be able to keep up with Dean anyways.

"I think the cusith's blessing finally kicked in. I have a feeling its because of the emotional onslaught you guys just put me through." I said with a grin. The boys seemed to agree with my thought process.

"That actually makes a lot of sense." Sam said. He sounded like he was in awe. Did he think it took a rocket scientist to figure out what triggered abilities? _Looks like I impressed both brothers. Yay me!_ I concealed a laugh at my uncharacteristic thoughts. Or at least I thought I did until Sam looked at me questioningly. I just shook my head and looked to Dean.

"So, what's your take on this Dean?" I said. I tried to keep my eyes on his face and not on the t-shirt that I knew hid so much muscle. Hopefully neither of the boys noticed my struggle. Of course, they both did, but Sam was choosing to ignore it. Smirking, Dean replied, "Well I think it's almost more amazing than me without a shirt on. Don't you agree, Alex?" My only response to this was to turn cherry red and walk back to my car.

"Let's just go to Bobby's, OK?" I yelled over my shoulder. I caught a quick glance of Sam grinning from ear to ear, but trying to hide it. When he looked at me, I threw him a sharp scowl. Unfortunately he only found this all the more amusing and started cracking up. I huffed and got into my car.

"You would never laugh at me, would you, baby?" I crooned at my car. I patted her on the dash, and turned to tug on my seat belt. That's when I noticed my window was rolled down and Dean was poking his head in, trying to suppress a laugh.

"You know…I'm thinking it's more that she wants to, but physically can't." He asked, clearly amused, if the smirk on his face was any indication. I decided to ignore that.

"Can I help you with something? And you better not be leaning on my baby." I warned. I saw him shift a few inches to the left and narrowed my eyes at him.

"Bobby's is a few hours from here, so Sam thought we should all exchange cell numbers so we can coordinate directions and rests and gas and all that fun stuff." He said. He handed me a piece of paper, which I tore in half and wrote my number on. When I handed it back to him, he looked at it and frowned. Unsure of what he could possibly be frowning at, I asked him if there was a problem.

"Well, you see, most women put little hearts or 'call me!' when they give me their number. I guess I just wasn't used to a dull, boring piece of paper." He said. Man, this guy was really pushing my buttons! I ripped the piece of paper back out of his hands, and wrote 'Bite me' in big, capitalized letters. Finally, I drew a big heart around it. Shoving it back at him with a sarcastic smile, I rolled up my window and started the car. I heard his low chuckle, and then he patted my car twice on the hood and walked back to the Impala. I shut my eyes and groaning I hit my head on the steering wheel. _Stupid, stupid, stupid._

The boys honked at me and I saw that they were at the edge of the parking lot, ready to ease out onto the open road. I gave them a nod, and the Impala suddenly started speeding down the road._ Jerk._ I thought. _He better just want to make good time to Bobby's._ If he was purposely trying to lose me he was doing a good job of it.

When I could no longer see the Impala, I got worried. I didn't see any turn offs so I knew they were still on the road I was following, but it made me uneasy to have them out of my sight. I considered calling Sam, but didn't want to seem like a worrywart. Opting instead to simply try to catch up to them, I quickly glanced around for cops before pressing the pedal to the metal.

Finally, after almost 10 minutes of going high speed, I could see the Impala, but it was off to the side of the road, and the boys were leaning against the trunk. Frowning, I parked behind them, and walked over, raising a hand to shield my eyes from the sun.

"What's up? Is something wrong?" I asked when I noticed that they both looked conflicted.

"Well, not exactly, but we just got a text from Dad." Dean said. "He gave us coordinates and one word. 'Werewolf'."

"…Werewolf?" I asked for confirmation. When Dean and Sam nodded I almost burst out laughing.

"I'm sorry." I giggled. "I'm just…" giggle. "I'm just trying really hard not to laugh. I mean, are you serious?" I asked. I was just having a hard time accepting that werewolves were real.

"Unfortunately yes. We think we should go take care of this before we go to Bobby's. It must be something urgent, otherwise Dad wouldn't have told us about it." Sam said with a small smile.

From what they had told me about their Dad, he was on the trail of the demon that had killed their mom, and was so focused on it that he rarely had any contact with them. So when he did end up contacting them, they always rushed to take care of the job, in the hope that their Dad would be waiting for them. So far, it hadn't happened. John Winchester would simply text the coordinates and sometimes the name of whatever they were meant to hunt, then wouldn't contact them until the next set of coordinates. I thought this was kinda crappy of John to do, but I could understand his want for revenge on the demon without having to worry about putting the boys in danger.

"Well. Ok then. Lets get going. Where are we headed to?" I asked. This job was clearly important to them, and I wasn't in a hurry to say goodbye to my baby. The boys looked surprised that I had agreed so easily, but also relieved that they wouldn't have to fight me on it. Apparently, they were aware that the 'coordinates only' thing was very sketchy, so they had expected me to not want to hunt the werewolf. But I could tell how much finding their dad meant to them. Besides, it's not like I had a whole list of hunts lined up.

"We looked up the coordinates and the job is in Bitter Creek, Wyoming." Dean said. I nodded and said, "Let's go.". As I turned around to get back into the Spitfire, I heard one of the Impala's doors close, and running footsteps. Confused, I turned around, not sure what more information they felt they needed to give me.

Dean was running towards me, his combat boots raising clouds of dust behind him. He finally neared me and slowed to a stop. He looked nervous, and that set me on edge.

"Hey Alex. Um, I just, uh… hm. I wanted to say…" Dean stumbled over his words, surprising me immensely. This was Dean Winchester! He had confidence by the bucket load! Trying to make it easier for him, I gently rested my hand on his shoulder; and when he glanced up to show a grateful smile, I looked straight into his eyes. They weren't the nondescript brown I had once thought them to be. There was a deep green flecked in with the dark brown, there was even a hint of blue in there. _Wow. _I thought. _Talk about intense._

I was so dazed by the intensity in his eyes that I noticed I was staring at him. I quickly glanced down at my shoes, and hoped he hadn't seen it. This time, he didn't.

"I wanted to say, thank you Alex. My Dad means a lot to me, and Sam says we'll never find him, but I just…I can't give up. You know?" He looked hopefully up at me, and I saw how vulnerable he felt right then._ Well of course he's vulnerable. He's had to be strong for Sam after Jess and his Dad, and he just felt obligated to thank me, practically a stranger._ I realized. I gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze, and let a friendly smile grace my lips.

"Don't worry about it Dean. It's the least I could do, considering how much you're doing for me." I said. Giving his shoulder a final pat, I sat myself down in the Spitfire. Looking out the windshield, I watched him trot on back to the Impala. I was amazed at how much he seemed to trust me already.

Since I couldn't really do much until the boys had picked a route and took off, I turned on the radio. By Your Side by Tenth Avenue North was just beginning to play. _Wow. That's ironic. A song about trust. _As I listened to the song I remembered the song was also about love._ So this song fits the trust part of what just happened, but not love. Nah, I don't love Dean Winchester._ I mused. A small voice in the back of my head said something that sounded suspiciously like 'not yet', but I've gotten quite experienced at ignoring it.

The Impala finally revved up and did a quick maneuver that had it facing the other direction…towards me. Dean was smirking at me, and Sam was rolling his eyes, and clearly thinking the same thing as me. _Show off._

It took us a full day of driving to get out of Kansas and into Wyoming. We found a motel, and even though we all knew it would be safer for all of us if we were all in one room, I couldn't share a room with them, yet. I mean, can you say awkward? I did agree to adjoin rooms though, so that if something was wrong, the boys or I could 'come to the rescue' through the door that connected our rooms.

I put up the regulatory salt lines around the room, and when the boys came in to see how I'd done, they approved. I felt a swell of pride again, but chalked it up to getting praise in general. The fact that it was Dean that had complimented my handiwork was of no consequence whatsoever.

The boys were still uneasy about leaving me alone though, so they gave me a handgun to stick under my pillow. I placed it right next to the knife I already had hidden there, which earned me another approving smile from Dean. I ducked my head to hide the blush that was spreading like wildfire across my face. With the excuse of showering, I shooed them back into their room and closed the door behind them. I hesitated over locking it, but remembering the care and trust these boys had already shown me, I decided against it.

I woke up bright and early the next morning and I noted with satisfaction that my bruises were significantly less visible than they were the day before. I was ready to begin my second hunt about an hour later, and when I went to let the boys know, I remembered to knock this time. Well, if you consider yelling as a form of knocking.

"Are you guys decent?" I called through the door. I was not taking any chances this time of seeing another bare-chested brother. Not that I didn't want to, of course. I heard a very audible thump and my eyes widened slightly. What were they doing over there? After hearing a muffled 'come in' I opened the door and stepped into the room, making sure to look only at the floor. A snicker told me that Sam was somewhere in the room, and the shower was running so I assumed that was where Dean was.

"It's okay, Alex. I'm dressed." Sam said. When I looked up at him he had amusement written all over his face. His hair was sticking up in random directions, leading me to assume that he must have just thrown on a shirt. The growing lump on the right side of his head was an indication that he was also probably the thump I had heard earlier.

"Take a bit of a spill?" I asked, gesturing to his head. He raised a hand and felt how big the mound was. He rolled his eyes, and I got the feeling that he was probably used to it.

"Yeah well, the taller you are the harder you fall." He said. Then he was most definitely versed in the art of getting injuries from tripping, seeing as how he looked to be about 6'4". Of course at my height, a measly 5'4", that wasn't so much of a problem for me. Not that I didn't have experience in injuring myself. I smiled pityingly at him.

"I'm forced to take your word for it." I said. He smiled as he realized I was right. "Oh, Dean and I were talking last night, and we think it would be more convenient for all of us to take the Impala on this case." He told me. I agreed with him that it did make more sense, but I was nervous about leaving my baby at the motel. Sam suggested that we park it behind the motel so it couldn't be seen from the main road. This made me much more relieved and I decided that I would move her whenever we went into town.

I guess Dean was enjoying his shower so much that he hadn't heard Sam and I talking, because he emerged from the bathroom in a cloud of steam, wearing only two towels. One was wrapped ridiculously high around his head, and the other wrapped ridiculously low around his hips. He went straight to his duffel and started digging for clean clothes.

"I hope you weren't looking forward to a hot shower Sammy. Somehow, all the hot water is---Alex!" Dean exclaimed. He hadn't registered my presence at first since he was so focused on teasing Sam. So when he finally did, he jumped about a foot in the air and tumbled backwards into the TV. What an experienced hunter.

"Thank the Lord for a hunter's enhanced senses and reflexes, right Dean?" I teased. That's when I remembered his current half-naked state. I once again found myself clapping a hand over my eyes and scrambling to get out of the room.

I think I was about halfway to the door when my foot caught on something, and I was once more tumbling to the ground. This time though, a strong pair of arms caught me. My eyes fluttered open in surprise, and I looked up into the face of my rescuer. Instead of finding Sam's honey-gold eyes as I expected, I was looking up into hazel-brown eyes that were filled with concern.

"Hey, Alex, you ok?" Dean asked. I was about to respond in the affirmative, when I realized that my hands had somehow come to rest on Dean's chest. His bare, wet chest. I jumped to my feet and felt the stupid flush creeping up my face again. _Right on time, as usual._

"Sorry…again…um…hehe…uh…okay." I said, as eloquent as ever. I ran out the door, this time, watching where I was going. As I closed the door behind me, I heard Sam say, "Is it just me, or does that happen a lot?" Then he chuckled, which was quickly cut off, when Dean threw something at his head.

Thirty minutes later found the three of us in another small diner. Sam and I were in one seat, and Dean was across from us, all three of us chugging coffee and eating pancakes. I kept my eyes off of Dean, not wanting my face to return to its embarrassing red state. The car ride had made that a little difficult, but seeing as how I was sitting in the back seat I was able to stare out my window the whole time.

We quickly finished up breakfast and took off again. About 3 hours later, we arrived in Bitter Creek, and pulled into an Internet café so Sam could get on his laptop and set up a file for the case. Dean and I left Sam to his research at the bar and sat at a small table a few feet away.

"So how exactly are we planning to get rid of this werewolf?" I asked, seeing as how I had found many different legends that all listed a different way to kill a werewolf.

"Dad and I have hunted a werewolf before. It's a simple kill. Silver bullet to the heart'll do it. The only hard part is finding the werewolf. The werewolf will sometimes eat the body of its victim, but will always eat the heart first." Dean said. I nodded, and pulled out my brown leather journal to write down the information. When Dean saw it, he gave a faint smile and said that I was catching on quick. Confused, I raised an eyebrow at him, muttered an ok, and went back to my writing. Still smiling, he pulled a battered journal out of his inside jacket pocket. It was about the same size as mine, except it was battered, and had many tears on the cover.

"This is Dad's journal. It dates all the way back to about 2 weeks after Mom's death. He recorded every one of his hunts in here. Saves a lot of time when we come across something Dad's killed once before." Dean explained. I wanted to look through it and see if John had ever come across the cusith before; but seeing as how it was probably the only thing the boys had to connect to their father, I figured it would be rude to ask.

"Do you and Sam keep a journal?" I asked. I hadn't seen either of them writing in anything, but Sam could have been keeping one on his laptop.

"Nah, there's no point. We don't have anyone to pass it down to." He said. Despite his casual tone, he wouldn't meet my eyes and his face looked slightly disappointed. I found this odd, so I filed it away in my head in case it was important later. Sam walked up then, his laptop in a case hanging off his shoulder. He looked like such a nerd, I almost laughed, but I reined it in when I saw that he was holding printouts of some news articles.

"Alright, the victim, Roger Davies was an attorney. His secretary, Madison Turner, found his body mangled and partially devoured Monday morning when she went to the office. Witnesses said he was hitting on her the night before at a local bar, but she turned him down. " Sam read off of the paper. He shuffled the printouts around and started reading off another one. "The autopsy says official cause of death cannot be determined because of how little of the body is left." He gave us a grim smile at this. "But, what officially makes this our kind of job, you know apart from the partially devoured thing, the heart was missing. There have been a few other deaths that were similar to this over the past couple of months, all of them unsolved cases."

"Ok, Alex. Training starts now. What's the first step?" Dean asked, turning to me with a smirk on his face. Caught off guard, I muttered a 'hold on' and thought through what we knew. Sam handed me the papers with an encouraging look on his face. Thanking him, I skimmed through the article quickly.

"Alright. Well it seems to me that this Madison has a lot of funny ties to the case. We should go interview her first…right?" I said slowly and looked to them, hopeful but anxious. Their faces remained impassive, but after a shared glance, they broke out into smiles, and gave me a very manly back slap.

"Way to go, girl. We knew you could do it." Sam teased. I heaved a sigh of relief. As we were walking out of the café so we could drive to Madison's house, Dean gave my arm a squeeze and threw me a half-smile. Unfortunately, it made my face flare up again. _Stupid, shiny Impala owner._ I thought to myself. I tipped my head, causing my curls to hide the color of my face._ This has got to stop._

AN: Sorry, I couldn't resist putting it in :) If you don't know what i'm talking about, then you need to read Twilight. Don't let the bad quality of the movie keep you from reading a good piece of literature! So yeah this is the sixth chapter, let me know what you're thinking.


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: So I was thinking the other day that maybe this story would be better if it was in a third person point of view. You would then be able to know what everyone's thinking, and I would be able to describe their expressions and whatnot better. So instead of it saying, "Sam, Dean, and I." it would be, "Sam, Dean, and Alex." So i'd like to get your guys' opinion of it. Should this be a first person pov story or a third person pov story? Let me know what your thoughts are in a review or a message or something!

Chapter 7

When we got to Madison's house, I buttoned a more professional-looking white blouse over my slightly low-cut tank top. Since we were posing as journalists, I thought I should at least try to look like I had a respectable job. Sam had changed out of his hoodie into a leather jacket he borrowed from Dean, who had opted for an undershirt with an open button up shirt over it. He called it his 'sexy' shirt, because he knew that he looked good in it and it was easier to get information out of women if you were a hot guy who was flirting with them.

We walked up to the stoop in a triangle formation. Wow. Just thinking that made me feel like some sort of army general. I scoffed, causing Dean to turn around and look at me with a raised eyebrow. I shook my head and looked down, sticking my hands into the pockets of my skinny jeans. The boys stood in front of me, and Sam rang the doorbell.

A young woman with black hair and blue and red streaks pulled back into a messy bun answered the door. Her eyes skipped over Dean and me, and fastened on to Sam. Dean looked childishly disappointed that the woman had dismissed him, but quickly masked it, as he was a professional. Sam quickly introduced us as journalists from some made up paper in his head. Madison nodded and stepped to the side, allowing us inside her home.

The three of us trailed inside, and when I had cleared the threshold, a man walked past me to Madison, who exchanged quiet words and a stiff hug with him. When he was completely off the porch, she shut the door and walked up to Sam, without so much as a glance at Dean. The self-proclaimed stud in question looked affronted again, and I felt so bad for him, I quickly pulled him aside.

"Don't worry, Dean you haven't lost your appeal. I think you look amazing, your sexy shirt is working fine." I blurted out. My eyes widened as I accidentally let the last sentence slip out. Dean's eyes quickly snapped to my face, but I was saved when Sam turned around and motioned for us to move it along.

I quickly brushed past Dean, and sat down next to Sam on the couch Madison had offered for us to sit on. Knowing that my face was bright red, I busied myself with digging through my purse for a pen, which I 'just couldn't seem to find'. My face cooled down quickly, and I shot a grateful 'thank you' to God. Sam seemed to be the one who was going to do the talking, so I sat back and prepared to take notes. I figured I could compare them with Sam's later to make sure I knew what kind of information I should look for when on a hunt.

Sam started out by saying that he knew that she had already answered a lot of his questions for the police, but he wanted her to simply answer them again. The first question he asked was about the man that had just left. Madison explained that he was just a concerned neighbor, whom she was afraid had a silly crush on her. Sam went through all of the general questions: did Roger have any enemies, did he act strange in the days leading up to his death, etc.

As she had given negative answers to any questions about things out of the ordinary, I hadn't taken any notes yet. But when Sam started asking questions about the night at the bar, Madison's face took on a concentrating look. Sam immediately zoomed in on this, and asked her what was wrong. She then proceeded to tell us that her ex-boyfriend, Kirk, had been at the bar that night too. Apparently, he had plopped himself down at a table a few feet away from her and watched her all night. She told us her suspicions that he had been stalking her for the past couple of weeks.

I definitely found that note-worthy, and wrote it all down on my notepad, including Kirk's address, which Madison had just given us. Sam quickly wrapped up the questions, thanked her for her time, and told her we might be back later. She said that was fine and that she wasn't going anywhere, so we left. Dean and I led the way out, and we both noticed when Sam lingered on the porch.

He finally finished up his romancing, and as he walked towards us with a guilty expression, I knew that Dean was mirroring my raised eyebrow. Sam mumbled something about how 'getting her number was important to the case'. Dean and I both gave him our 'uh-huh, sure' looks, which set him to muttering again about freaky brain connections between strangers. Dean and I leaned on the Impala until Sam was in the passenger seat, going over his notes.

"To Kirk's, yes?" I asked Dean. He gave me a half-smile and nodded once. Taking that as my dismissal, I gave Dean a salute, which he chuckled at, and began to walk around the trunk so I could get into the back, but stopped when my arm was grabbed.

Instinctively tensing, I turned to face Dean, who had me by my upper left arm. I gave him a questioning smile, which he ignored because he was focusing very hard on whatever he was thinking about. Concerned, I laid my hands on the sides of his face and anxiously asked him what was wrong. He gave a small laugh, but shook his head, still not meeting my eyes.

Dean opened and closed his mouth over and over again, seeming unsure of what to say. Suddenly, his eyes locked on mine. Startled, I almost took a step back, but I didn't want him to think I was running from, so I stayed where I was. I started to remove my hands from his face, but he shot his hands up lightning-quick and grabbed my hands. Placing them on his shoulders, he gently whispered my name.

"What is it, Dean?" I softly inquired. He didn't answer me, but he took his hands from mine, resting one hand on my lower back and the other on the back of my neck. Before I knew what was happening, he closed his eyes, pulled me flush against him, and kissed me. Too stunned to respond, but enjoying it too much to pull away, I could only tighten my grip on his shoulders.

It was a very innocent kiss, one I didn't even know Dean Winchester was capable of. All he did was press his lips to mine, not trying to take it any further than that. After a few short seconds he moved his face away, but kept his body where it was, right against mine.

He opened his eyes, and looked nervously at me, as if he didn't know if I was okay with him kissing me._ As if any woman would ever not be alright with kissing freaking Dean Winchester._ I thought. My face exploded into a grin, and flooded into a blush, yet again. This time, though, I didn't try to hide it.

Dean grinned back at me and said, "Thanks…again." This was accompanied by a low laugh. Sam honking the horn startled us both, and we jumped guiltily apart. Our heads snapped around to look at Sam, but as he was still facing forward, I don't think he knew what had just transpired literally behind his back.

Muttering a few choice words about 'impatient Sasquatches', Dean gave my shoulder an affectionate squeeze, and then walked to the driver's side door, smiling at me one last time before stepping into the Impala. I jogged around the trunk to Sam's side, and climbed into the seat behind him.

"What took you guys so long out there?" Sam asked irritably. I immediately froze, not good at coming up with stories on the spot. Dean came to my rescue, though.

"What took you so long on Madison's porch?" He shot back with a smirk. Sam's face quickly flushed, and he went back to his notes, grumbling something unintelligible. Dean gave him an uh-huh-that's-what-I-thought face and a nod, and started up the engine. As we pulled onto the road heading to Kirk's house, he and I shared a quick glance in the rearview mirror. I turned my very red face to look out the window.

Kirk's apartment came into view thirty minutes later. The drive had passed uneventfully. Dean had blasted his usual selection of music, which consisted of Metallica, Motorhead, Black Sabbath, AC/DC, and that's about it. After the 10th AC/DC song, Sam had asked Dean to either play something else or shut it off. Well, maybe asked was too polite of a word. Shouted would have been a more accurate term.

We parked across the street from Kirk's apartment building, checked the apartment number, and tried to find the right room in the maze of hallways. I once again had my handy-dandy notepad with me, and pulled it out once we found the door. Dean knocked this time, but no one answered. Dean knocked again but still no answer.

That's when I noticed the claw marks on the door that led out the alley. I nudged the guys and when I had their attention, I nodded at the door. The boys recognized them as the werewolf's, and both pulled a shiny handgun out of their jackets. Taking the hint, I unsheathed the dagger from the strap around my upper arm, and almost protested when the brothers took up a protective stance in front of me. _Alex have you ever hunted a werewolf before? I don't think so._ I told myself.

The three of us walked slowly towards the door, not sure what we were going to see on the other side. We finally stopped in front of the door, so far nothing had happened. Dean looked at Sam and held up three fingers. Sam nodded, and both boys turned their attention back to the door. Dean held up one finger, then two, then a third, which was accompanied by Dean's foot kicking the door close to the knob.

He stepped through the door, then to the right as Sam moved swiftly behind him and stepped to the left. The boys were standing shoulder to shoulder, and thanks to my poor genes, my view was completely blocked._ These aren't men, they're freakin' giants!_ I thought.

The guys swept their guns back and forth, but didn't fire or shout at anything, so I wasn't sure what they could see that I couldn't. Both boys relaxed, and stepped forward (finally!) so I could see what had happened. When I did, I almost wished I hadn't. The werewolf had left us a lovely half-devoured policeman.

Dean leaned over the body to see if he could get an estimate of how long ago the man had been killed while Sam walked a few feet away and called 911. He told the cop on the phone our location and about the body, conveniently leaving out the fact that it was half-eaten. When he was done, Dean had already done whatever it is that he does to figure out the time of death. He said it most likely happened sometime yesterday, seeing as how the body was completely cold.

"So, it's highly likely that Kirk is the werewolf, huh?" I guessed. The boys nodded. "Good job." They both said at the exact time. They also both had that amazing Winchester grin on their faces. I was willing to bet that if I ever met John, he would have that same grin.

"Thanks. That's creepy by the way." I informed them. As we turned to walk out of the alley and back to the Impala, I heard them both chuckle, also in synch._ And they reunited only a month ago? You'd think they'd been best friends for years, with the connection they seem to have._ I mused.

Having seen this kind of a connection only in the Winchester boys, I decided that hunting probably created a special bond between people. At that moment, I desperately wished that I could one day have that sort of bond with someone. Unfortunately, I was an only child, so the chances of that happening were highly unlikely. _Well, I guess there's always Sam. _I thought._ And perhaps something romantic with Dean?_ This thought made my heart flutter, and my face flush. Again._ Why, oh why, does my body still think it's a twelve year old girl?_

We drove back to Madison's house, in case Kirk came after her. I wanted to be there when the werewolf was killed so I could get some more field experience, which created a problem. Sam wanted to go after the werewolf, probably because of his new crush on Madison, but Dean wanted to stay with me to protect me. Both Sam and I were arguing the he could protect me just as well as Dean could, but we also both knew that Dean was the better hunter, as he had been training for the vast majority of his life. When the boys couldn't come to an agreement, they played rock, paper, scissors for it. Their faces got deadly serious, and they stared intently at one another. I hid a smile behind my hand as Dean threw a fit when Sam beat his scissors with rock.

"Oh Dean…always with the scissors!" Sam laughed. Dean frowned and told him to do it again. Sam agreed and threw rock. Dean threw…scissors. Again. I stifled a laugh when Dean looked helplessly in my direction. Wanting Dean to go with me instead of Sam, I asked Sam if I could talk to him in private for a moment.

"Sam. Um, I think we should talk real fast about Dean's…uh…reputation with women?" I reminded him. Sam had made a comment in the past about Dean's 'latest one night stand', which implied that he had many.

"Oh right, the 'love 'em and leave 'em' thing he's got going on? Don't worry Alex; he wouldn't do that to you. Trust me, if he expected you to be a one night only kind of deal, then he wouldn't have led you on, let alone kiss you." Sam stated absentmindedly as he loaded a shotgun with silver bullets. I was shocked. I had been forcing myself not to think about what might happen if that was what Dean wanted from me, and Sam had known exactly what I was most afraid of. I guess he knew me better than I thought.

"Oh. Ok. Thank you for telling me…but that wasn't what I wanted to talk to you about." I said. "I think all three of us have noticed that Madison is a…more than attractive woman. Are you sure that leaving Dean alone in an empty house with her is the wisest idea?" Sam froze and I could see the gears turning in his head. After a few seconds, he snapped his head up, eyes wide, and looked around frantically. He spotted Dean walking slowly up to the house in a full out swagger, his 'sexy' shirt unbuttoned at the top. Sam took off after him.

"Dean! No! I changed my mind! Do NOT go in that house, Dean!" He shouted, nearly screaming. I grinned to myself. _A job well done, Alex._ I thought, mentally patting myself on the back. I grinned even wider when I saw that Dean was jogging towards me and the Impala; and Sam rang the doorbell. When Madison saw Sam, her grin grew as big as mine. _I guess we both get our men tonight. _I thought teasingly. Sam followed Madison into the house, and I climbed into the Impala. When Dean slid in to the driver's seat, he looked like a kid on Christmas morning.

"Phew. I thought Sam would never come and stop me. I guess my reputation finally did me some good." He said with a smug smile. I raised an eyebrow.

"Oh? And my reminding him of said reputation did nothing?" I teased. For a moment he looked sheepish, but suddenly his look turned curious. "You didn't think I was actually interested in her did you?"

"No. Well, more like I hoped you weren't." I admitted. I understood that Dean was a natural flirt and that this job sometimes required a little bit of 'eyelash batting' to get done. "I won't be a one-night stand Dean. But I do understand that sometimes, this job requires a little bit more from us than I might be comfortable with. Just let me adjust, though, and I'll be fine. I don't mind you giving other girls pretty words, Dean, as long as you make it clear that I'm the one you're serious about." I didn't even care how cliché it sounded, because it was the complete truth.

It had been four months since Trent, and I hadn't felt like this about anyone in all that time, then out of nowhere this hunter came striding into my life. I didn't love him. Not yet anyways. But I was certainly ready to try again. And if he broke my heart…well it wouldn't hurt as bad as watching him die. I would set out on my own before I stuck around to watch that happen.

During my silent reverie, I noticed that Dean had been doing some thinking of his own. I sat silently and stared out the window, waiting to hear the verdict, whatever it may be. Suddenly, the hand laying I my lap was in one of Dean's calloused hands._ Hunters' hands._ I realized. I looked down at our hands, then turned my attention back to Dean, who had his head bowed.

"Alex." He started. He sounded hesitant and I assumed that he probably didn't talk about his feelings very much. The thought almost made me laugh, but seeing as how Dean would probably think I was laughing at him, I quickly choked it down. He gave a slight chuckle, but I could see he was completely serious about what he was going to say.

"I'm not so great with ah, chick flick, moments, you could say. I usually actually go out of my way to avoid them with Sammy." He looked up at me, a half-grin on his face, but I gave him a look that said 'don't-even-try-it-buddy'. The grin fell from his face and he nodded once more before visibly steeling himself.

"Alex, I have honestly never had an opportunity to have a real relationship, so this is completely new to me. And I'm not used to having to watch my actions or words either. But I would be lying if I said that I've never wanted one, in the future at least." He explained. _Ah. So that was why he had sounded sad about not having anyone to pass a journal down to._ I figured.

"You want a family." I stated. He nodded, seeming to be a bit more comfortable with talking now that he had gotten most of it out.

"I'm willing…I'm willing to try. And maybe you could train me in the art of being a serious boyfriend and I'll train you to be a hunter." He grinned slightly at the end, but that uneasy look he got when he was vulnerable was back in his eyes. He was laying his heart down in front of me, and I had the power to break it.

As if.

I quickly yanked my hand out of his, and he looked worried for a moment, until I used that hand to pull him into a kiss. We both pulled back, grinning like fools. Dean asked, "Shall we?" To which I responded, "We shall." He started up the Impala, and we drove to Kirk's house.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Sam and Madison

Madison's House

I followed Madison into the house, closing the door behind me. When I turned away from the door to follow her, I was surprised to find her standing only a hair's breadth from me, her beautiful brown eyes staring up at me. The seductive smile on her face made me overwhelmingly glad that I had sent Dean with Alex to hunt the werewolf.

I was about to give in to my inner Dean and kiss the daylights out of this woman, but the familiar pain I had felt ever since Jess's death sprang up out of nowhere. I grimaced, and placed my hands on Madison's shoulders, gently but firmly pushing her back.

"I… I cant, Madison." I sighed. I wanted to move past Jess, I did, but she just kept coming back to me. _Maybe because you were planning to marry her, doof._ I told myself. Her confused brown eyes looked up at me, then widened with realization.

"You just got out of a relationship." She guessed. I nodded and looked down at my hands. "With that blond from before?" She asked sharply. My eyes widened and my head snapped up. Caught off guard, I couldn't form a complete sentence. She took my silence as a confirmation, and started walking hurriedly away from me.

"Wait! Madison no, it isn't her!" She stopped, but didn't turn around. "It's not Alex. It was my girlfriend; she died about a month ago. I'm sorry." I said, bowing my head. She walked up and placed her hand on my cheek. Lifting my chin, she said, "No. I'm sorry."

She patted my cheek and walked into her kitchen, asking, "Want a beer, Sam?" I smiled, and quickened my pace. She handed me a bottle, clinked hers to mine, and we both took a gulp. Madison walked into the living room, and we sat on the couch, facing each other. I explained to her that we thought that Kirk was the werewolf, and she took it like a champ. No shrieks of terror, as was the usual reaction.

She simply left the room and came back with a basketful of laundry. She went about folding her laundry, leaving me with nothing to do. I wanted to talk to her, to break the silence at the least, but she seemed to be focusing heavily on whatever she was thinking about. She threw a sly glance at me out of the corner of her eye, and I was immediately wary.

Then she pulled something out of the basket very slowly. A very lacy something. My eyes popped open and I felt an uncharacteristic flush creeping up my face._ Ah jeez. I'm turning in to Alex._ I thought.

I moved over on the couch so Madison was no longer in my line of sight. She chuckled and, abandoning her laundry, came to sit next to me on the couch. I kept my eyes squarely on the TV, willing my face to chill out. It didn't._ I have got to talk to Alex about this. She must be an expert with how much she blushes._ I thought.

"So. Um…Madison. How did, uh, how did you end up with a guy like Kirk?" I asked, glancing over at her, which I immediately regretted as my face flared up even worse than before. She gave me a smile, knowing that her plan had worked perfectly. _Darn feminine wiles._

"Well, personally I think it was a lack of self-confidence. Then, one day, I was mugged in an alley almost two blocks from here. And, I know it sounds ridiculous," She laughed. "But it changed my life. I guess you could say it made me realize that any day could be my last. So, I dumped Kirk, and here I am." She finished. I nodded.

"I see. I almost don't believe it though. I find you to be very self-assured." I gave Madison a weak smile, and she hid a smile behind a manicured hand. She stood up and announced that she was going to bed. I nodded and watched her make the short walk to her bedroom, waiting for her to close the door. She didn't. I looked at the door for a full minute at least._ No, Sam. How will you feel when you have to watch her shrink in the rearview mirror tomorrow? _I nodded to myself, completely agreeing.

I looked back up at that open door.

Dean and Alex

Kirk's Apartment

Dean and I had been outside of Kirk's apartment for about 30 minutes, and so far nothing had happened. We had passed the time by playing Truth, a game that my family and I used to play on long car rides. Since we had to listen as well as watch the apartment, we were whispering our answers to each other.

"So in Truth, we trade off questions, and you have to answer truthfully, and the answer has to be in-depth." I explained this to Dean, who nodded thoughtfully, then asked, "So, how do I win?" Yes, I took note of the 'I' in there.

"That" I replied, "is such a boy question. To win, someone has to refuse to answer a question. For example, lets say I ask you a question and you don't answer it. Then you get to ask me a question, and if I answer it, I win."

And so, the questions had begun. The questions had slowly gone from silly to serious. I now knew that Dean's most prized possession was his Dad's journal, and not the Impala like I had expected. He said that it was because when he read the journal, he could imagine that his dad was talking directly to him. I smiled softly at him, and thanked him for telling me.

In the short silence that followed, we heard the sound of breaking glass. We jumped out of the car, and I grabbed the shotgun Dean had handed to me earlier. Both of our guns were loaded with silver bullets. Flat out sprinting to the house, Dean beat me by two seconds and kicked the door open so hard that it literally flew off its hinges, splinters going in every direction.

There was the werewolf, ripping the man I assumed to be Kirk, to shreds. The werewolf looked sharply at the two of us, and when it saw Dean raising his pistol, jumped at him, disregarding me. Through my horror, I noticed the color of the wolf's pelt as it ran under a streak of moonlight. Black, blue, and red._ Madison!_ I realized with a shock.

The sounds of Dean struggling with the wolf brought me back to the present. I tried kicking Madison at first so I hopefully wouldn't have to kill her, but she ignored it. I stepped back and raised the shotgun, desperately wishing I had trained with shotguns and not pistols. I pulled the trigger but Madison dodged it and leaped off Dean, who had lost his gun in the attack. I turned my attention to Dean. Blood was seeping through his jeans on the right side and he wasn't moving much.

Then I heard the snarling. My eyes widened and I turned slowly to my left, and saw Madison, in a crouched position, with her eyes locked on me. I had about a second to think_ Crap_ before I felt sharp claws digging into my left side.

Pulling in a sharp breath, I was knocked to the ground. I felt my head crack on the tile floor beneath me._ Tile again?_ I fleetingly thought. Then my vision burst into stars and faded to black.

My eyes flew open, but when they were flooded with bright light, I shut them quickly. This time, I opened them slowly, allowing my eyes time to adjust. At first, all I saw was white._ Maybe I died. _I thought. _That would suck._ Then I felt the pain, spearing through my left side._ Ok, definitely not dead then._

I groaned, and stopped moving, hoping the pain would go away. Hearing a concerned voice calling my name, I flopped my head to the right. Dean was lifting himself out of an uncomfortable-looking chair._ Ah. Hospital, then._ I figured. The night's events came flowing back to me, and I remembered that Dean had been injured too. I looked at his right side, but everything looked normal.

"You got hurt too." I stated. He nodded, and gingerly patted his right side. "So why am I the only one in the ugly dress?" He gave a half-smile, but it looked a little forced to me. Sighing, he sat down next to me on the bed with a grimace. "And while you're at it, what happened to Madison?"

"Well let's start from the beginning, shall we? After you hit your head, you were out cold, so Madison came after me, but by then I had my gun on her. I tried to shoot her, but she jumped out the window. I tried to wake you up, but you are amazingly stubborn, and trust me, that don't change when you're unconscious." He smiled weakly down at me, but it certainly didn't reach his eyes. Taking a deep breath, he continued.

"I loaded you into the Impala, and drove us here. My leg was fine, they just had to clean it up a bit, but you, my dear, had a minor concussion. Don't worry, I called Sam on the way and told him that Madison was the werewolf. He didn't even know that she had gone. When he didn't believe me I told him about the wolf's fur. He went to check on her, and she had bruises on her side, from you kicking her I figure. Nice kicks by the way." This time when he smiled, it actually lit up his face. Then he glanced at something above my eyes, and his face fell.

Frowning, I lifted my hand to my face, feeling around for I didn't know what. Suddenly there was a cottony fabric under my hand. Following the cloth with my fingers, I found that it went all the way around my head._ Oh, right. I nearly split my head open. Lovely._

I looked back to Dean, His face was blank as he stared at the floor, but his eyes were full of guilt. Laying a hand on the arm closest to me, I asked him what he was feeling guilty about. He looked stunned that I could tell what he was feeling, and for a minute, I know I did too.

"I was supposed to protect you. And I didn't. I mean, look at you, you've got a bandage around your head, you've got claw wounds all down your side. I'm sorry, Alex." He explained, bowing his head. _That's what he feels guilty about? My own stupidity of not just killing Madison the first chance I got?_

"You're right Dean. I'm terribly upset with you." His head snapped up, and he looked even guiltier than before. I continued, "I'm also mad at you for not putting out the Chicago Fire of 1817. Oh, and for not preventing the fall of the Roman Empire, making you _directly_ responsible for the Dark Ages." I finished, with a smile on my face. His face got more and more relieved as I had gone on. He gave a small chuckle, and glanced down once more before looking me in the eye.

"Thanks Alex." He said. "Ok, change subject quickly. You know, you're making it really hard for me to stick to my motto." He said. I raised an eyebrow.

"I'm not completely sure what one-night stands have to do with this but alright." I said slowly, hoping he would explain. He laughed, a beautiful, full sound. I was swept up in it, and soon found that I was smiling widely, even though I didn't know what was funny.

"No, no not that one. My motto, well rule really, is 'no chick-flick moments'. I don't let Sam have them. You, however, keep sneaking them in on me." He said with a fond smile. I felt my blush coming, but tried to fight it. Dean somehow noticed. "Only three-fourths of your face turned bright red that time." He chuckled. "You must be getting used to blushing so much."

His hand left his lap, and came to rest on my hair, traveling over the bandage and down to my cheek. He leaned forward to kiss me…and his phone rang. No, unfortunately, I'm not kidding. He redirected his lips and landed them on my forehead, pulling away with a disappointed pout. It was the cutest thing I'd ever seen, and I couldn't stop my heart from melting.

He left the room, and answered the phone. I watched him pace back and forth in front of my door, and got a mental image of Dean as one of those soldiers from Buckingham Palace. I burst out laughing, and when Dean whirled around sharply, I started snorting and waved him away hurriedly. He quickly finished up his call as I took deep breaths, trying to calm myself.

Looking concerned for my sanity, he told me that Sam had Madison tied to a chair back at her house. "You know there are so many ways that I could play that, but I think I'll just leave it alone." I said. Dean nodded with a smirk that clearly said that he agreed.

"So, what are we going to do? Kill Madison?" I asked after a small silence. Dean had sat himself back down into the yucky hospital chair and scooted it over till it was as close to my side as he could get it. He sighed and he looked extremely worried.

"Normally, we would. But Madison is claiming that she had no idea she was the wolf, and Sam believes her. Sam wants to try to save her instead of killing her. In his journal, Dad wrote that he had heard of a theory that if you kill the original werewolf that gave another the disease, the werewolf would be cured." Dean said.

"So Sam wants us to hunt this other werewolf so we maybe won't have to kill Madison?" I clarified. Dean nodded. "Sounds like a good idea to me."

"But what if Madison's lying and she _does_ know that she's a wolf? The ropes Sam tied her up with wont hold a werewolf, just a woman. If she tries to escape, Sam will be forced to shoot her anyways." Dean said, exasperated. I mulled all this over for a minute or two.

"Well it seems to me that we could hunt the wolf, and Sam could watch Madison. You just have to make him agree to shoot her if she tries to escape." I said. Dean's face suddenly looked amused, and I was confused as to what he could possibly be finding funny.

"Oh that's cute, you think you're coming with me to hunt the wolf. That's a good one, Alex." He said, grinning at me. I gave him a look that told him that I was, in fact, _not_ kidding. His grin dropped and looked straight into my eyes.

"If this happens, you are _not_ coming with me." He said. His tone clearly said that he was not making a suggestion. It was an order. I raised my eyebrows and crossed my arms over my chest, ignoring the pain. I was not someone he could boss around. He seemed to come to his senses and hurried to explain.

"Look it's not that I don't want you there, because I do of course, but you_ can't_ be there. Your wounds are still causing you too much pain, and the doctor said you can't leave until tomorrow morning anyway." He told me.

I looked at him suspiciously, but finally realized he was right. I could hardly move because of all the pain I was in, there was no way I could take on another werewolf, even with Dean's help. I reluctantly nodded. He smiled, softly patted my shoulder, and told me he was going after the wolf.

Giving me a lingering kiss on the forehead, he left, closing the door behind him. I quickly asked God to watch over him and Sam. Even though they had been doing this for quite a while without me, I still felt like they were at risk without me there.

I thought about Dean, imagining him sitting in the Impala, his face focused and illuminated by the moonlight. I pictured myself sitting in the passenger seat next to him, and imagined that I could hear the AC/DC pouring out of the stereo, mixing with the dull roar of that beautiful engine. I imagined the smell of the Impala. Leather and gunpowder. I smiled contentedly, desperately wishing I was there.

And suddenly, I was. No, I'm not kidding. Everything was exactly the way I had pictured it, except I was still wearing the stupid hospital gown. I looked around, startled. "What?" I said softly, breathless. Dean jumped when he saw me, and swerved wildly for a moment, before pulling over. He slowly reached out and touched me, and swiftly pulled his hand back.

"You're here. You're real. How are you here?" He asked, getting more and more anxious. I shouted at him that I didn't know, as he showed no signs of shutting up.

"What in the world is going on?" I mumbled to myself.

I desperately tried to think of an explanation for what was happening, as Dean was too busy freaking out to be any help.

"I just imagined myself sitting here next to you, and then, I was." I said, still stunned. Could this be another power from the cusith? _It's gotta be. This is definitely not something I've done before._ I told Dean of my suspicions, and he nodded shakily.

"Ok. Well, I'm going to try to go back, I guess. Um, I'll call you if it works." I said. He nodded and watched me intently. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. I pictured myself in the hospital, and recalled the sounds and smells of the room I was in. When the AC/DC was gone, I warily peeked one eye open, and breathed a sigh of relief when I saw that I was back in the hospital room. I looked down at myself, and saw that I was sitting the exact same way I had been when I had started daydreaming.

I reached for my cell and called Dean, letting him know that I was back at the hospital. We said goodbye and good luck in my case and hung up. I pressed the nurse's call button that was on the wall beside my bed. My side protested only a little, and I was glad to find that I must be healing faster than the doctor thought I would._ Odd._ I thought, but quickly forgot about it when the nurse walked in, a clipboard in her arms.

"How can I help you?" she asked warmly. I requested a laptop, and she showed a blindingly white smile before walking swiftly out of the room. She returned a few seconds later, laptop in hand.

I propped open the laptop and pulled up a Google page. Not sure what I should search for, I simply typed in 'two places at once'. I clicked on the first site listed, and found nada. I went through two or three more pages of junk before I found a site that looked promising. By promising, I mean that it looked slightly more professional than the other pages. It had the title 'Powers of Wiccan or Demonic Origin.' _Sounds about right to me._ I scrolled down and skimmed through three or four paragraphs and random abilities, but stopped when I found one that said two places at once. I checked out the title of the paragraph, which was 'Astral Projection'._ Alright._ I started to read the paragraph.

'_Astral Projection is the ability to be in two places at once. A person with this ability can be in two places at once, but can only control the projected body. The real body will look like it is asleep. The person's real body is completely vulnerable at this point, as the person will only be able to hear what the real body is hearing, and will have to completely return to the real body in order to use any of the other senses or control the body. The astral projection ability is accompanied by telekinesis, because astral projection is simply telekinesis of the thought.'_

"Huh." I said to myself. "Sounds about right, except I don't have telekinesis." _Or do I?_ I thought._ The astral projection didn't show up until I felt like I needed it, maybe it's the same with the telekinesis._ I looked around the hospital room, looking for something I could try to use telekinesis on.

Spotting a pen on a table, I figured it was light enough to be a good test subject._ Ok. So how should we do this?_ I decided to simply try and move it a little to start with. I focused my thoughts on the pen, and pictured it shifting just an inch to the left. After staring at the pen for about thirty seconds with no results, I was starting to think my theory about telekinesis might be wrong._ Alright this is not working._

I heard a scuffling sound by the door and looked up to see a young woman walk in with a tray. She gave me a timid smile and set the tray down on the table next to my bed. All thoughts of telekinesis left my head when I noticed that the tray was full of food. My stomach gave a growl as the woman left the room. I reached for the tray, but quickly realized that it was out of my reach._ Are you kidding me?_ I thought. I looked longingly at the green jello sitting on the corner of the tray farthest away from me. _How pathetic do I feel right now?_

I mournfully tore my gaze away from the neon green yumminess and closed up the laptop, setting it on the chair Dean had sat in earlier. My hunger came back full force, and I glared at the stupid jello. I gave a huff of frustration before looking around for the call button. Next thing I know, something whacks me full force in the face, then falls into my lap.

I sat up quickly, expecting a demon to be standing in the room somewhere. Frowning when I saw that I was the only one in the room, I looked down at the offensive object. The jello was in my lap. Rubbing my head and frowning, I looked at the tray, then at the jello, then around the room.

"Someone there?" I asked grumpily. Silence was my only response. _If no one threw the jello at me then how did I end up with it?_ Then I realized what had happened. _Ok I think I just made my life._

I peeled open the jello cup with a gleeful smile on my face. Then realized that I had no spoon. Looking over at the tray I found my missing spoon._ Ok, here goes._ I let my need for the spoon wash through me, and the spoon was immediately flying towards my outstretched hand. I gave a small chuckle and started eating my jello.

I looked at the pen from before, and glanced outside my room to make sure no one was watching. I extended my right hand out toward the pen, and beckoned it with my fingers. It zipped right on over, and I felt a thrill of elation. It was getting easier to use my abilities!

I finished up my jello and looked at the clock. It was eight at night. So Dean was probably waiting in the alley that Madison was mugged in for the werewolf to hopefully show up. Figuring that he would be angry at me for ruining his stake out if I randomly showed up behind him, I decided there was nothing more I could do. I looked at the open door to my room with a calculating glance._ I wonder…_

I slightly raised my right hand again and waved it at the door in the direction I wanted it to go. It closed, and I had to control my urge to jump up and down screaming. Planning to go to sleep, I looked around for a way to turn off the lights.

After my search I had found only one way to turn off the lights: the light switch next to the door. _Oh come on they cant be so cruel that they would make it impossible for the patient to turn off the lights. Right? _Finding no light switches by the bed I grumbled 'I guess so' under my breath. _They're lucky I'm newly telekinetic. _I used my new power to turn off the lights, rolled over in the bed so I was on my stomach, and quickly fell asleep.

A/N: It's been forever, I know. But Winter break is finally here and I have two weeks off of school! so i will put up at least chapter 12 within the next two weeks. This story isnt dead, I just got stuck for a lil bit. So review and let me know what you think! Even if you just want to complain about me not posting for so long. Talk to me :)


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

I was shaken awake by an insistent hand on my shoulder. Not even bothering to open my eyes, I sleepily mumbled "five more minutes" and turned away from whomever was shaking me. I heard a low laugh, and the hand tightened almost painfully, and I immediately thought _demon_. I swiftly turned and threw my hand out, meaning to knock the hand off my shoulder, but instead telekinetically pushing the thing back, causing it to trip over the nearby chair, and fall into a crumpled heap.

Momentarily stunned at the sudden burst of power, I looked around for a weapon to use. Spotting a knife on the tray from the night before, I beckoned to it, and it flew into my hand. Tightening my fingers around the handle, I recalled the training I had done with knife throwing. I drew my hand back, prepared to throw the knife with not only my strength, but with my telekinesis.

The demon propped itself up with a hand, then lifted a knee, so it could push itself off the floor. I glanced at the demon's leg, which I could barely make out in the dark. It was wearing a combat boot._ Wait a second… _

I waved a hand at the light switch, absentmindedly wondering how I had survived all my life without this handy ability, and the lights came flooding on._ Oh. Whoops._ I thought when I realized that the demon was not a demon. It was Dean.

Turning to me with a bewildered look on that handsome face, he asked, "Jumpy today, aren't we?" He threw a little smirk in at the end. I gave him a sheepish smile and shrugged my shoulders, noting that it was no longer painful.

"I had no idea how strong you were, girl. I must admit that I am quite impressed. Oh I brought you some clean clothes." He said, righting the chair sand dropping a duffel next to it. I felt confusion cross my face before remembering that I hadn't told anyone about my telekinesis. I gave him a sly smile, and thanked him, a plan forming in my head.

"Hey Dean, could you bring me that tray? I'm starving." I asked. When he nodded and stood up to cross the room, I hid a giggle behind my hand. He looked at me funny when he saw that I had a goofy grin on my face.

"That hungry, huh?" He asked, a teasing smirk on his face. I narrowed my eyes at him and said huffily, "no." As he lowered himself into the chair, I subtly moved my hand off my lap to rest on my thigh so it was facing him. And the chair. I smirked, and mentally gave an evil cackle as I figured out how to exact my revenge.

Waiting until he was a second away from planting his rear in the chair, I waved my hand in a small motion, so small it looked like a random twitch. I watched with smug satisfaction as Dean's face contorted into alarm as he continued falling to the floor, instead of landing into the chair as he had intended. He looked around wildly for the chair, and when he spotted it all the way across the room, he shook his head.

His face was so lost and confused that I almost laughed and gave it away. When he slowly lifted his head to look at me, his eyes were set in perfect puppy-dog eyes. _I knew Sam couldn't have been the only one who got the gene for them._ Sam was known for his big brown puppy-dog eyes, and from what the boys had told me, it had helped them get a good amount of information out of many people when they were working a case. As heartbreaking as the sight was, I had just fit in the last part to my plan.

When he looked back to the chair, I bit my lip and squinted my eyes in concentration. I was trying to make it come forward slowly instead of flying forward, as it would probably hit Dean in the face, and I liked it just the way it was. My efforts paid off, and the chair slid forward slowly. _I didn't even have to use my hands that time!_ My telekinesis seemed to be advancing frighteningly quickly.

Turning my attention back to Dean, I almost lost my concentration on the chair. Dean was scrambling backwards on his hands, not taking his eyes off of the chair. As he got closer, I heard him mumbling 'demon chair' and I lost it.

I burst out laughing, and stopped moving the chair. I looked to Dean, and when I saw his face looking confusedly between me and the chair, I felt tears start streaming down my cheeks. Dean hesitantly picked up the chair and put it in the coat closet. I took deep, calming breaths, and counted to ten. The hunter walked over to the other chair in the room and poked it a couple of times before apparently deciding it was safe to sit in. He dragged it over next to me and held firmly onto it while he plopped himself into the seat. He sat tense for a few moments, and when nothing happened he relaxed, and finally looked at me.

"Let's uh… not mention that. Ever." He suggested. I grinned and shook my head.

"I have something to tell you Dean." I said. His face instantly turned wary, and he suspiciously said, "What?" All I did was grin even wider, and I astral projected myself behind him. He looked at my real body confused and said my name.

From behind him, I innocently said, "Yes, Dean?" His reaction was immediate. He pitched forward out of the chair and turned, jumping about a foot in the air. I giggled because my stomach hurt too much to laugh again. I told him that I had found out what had happened last night. His eyes kept sweeping back between my body and my astral self. All he said was, "Explain."

I opened up the laptop and pulled up the page I had found before. I pointed out the paragraph on astral projection. Dean slowly nodded, accepting my explanation.

"But it says that you have to have telekinesis in order to do this projection thing. You don't." He said. I looked pointedly at the closet that still held the 'demon chair'. His eyes clearly showed confusion, then dawned in realization.

"You…but you…the chair… you?" He asked. I nodded, and knelt down next to him as he sat back down in the chair. He seemed to be having trouble comprehending this. Not wanting to overload him with information, I softly asked him, "Can we get out of here now?" He nodded with relief and walked out to go get a nurse, I assumed. I brought myself back into my real body and got out of the bed, grabbed the duffel, and went to the bathroom to change.

Dean had brought me a black shirt that I didn't recognize. My face crinkled in confusion, and I experimentally sniffed the shirt._ Gunpowder and leather. Dean. _My face spread into a smile, and I slipped Dean's shirt over my head. Then I caught sight of my left side, where Madison had clawed me. There were three faint pink lines._ That's weird. It looks as if it's been healing for a week rather than just one night._ _Maybe werewolf injuries heal differently._

I looked in the mirror to fix my hair and face. I made a sad face when I realized Dean hadn't brought me any makeup. Although I had to admit that I looked pretty darn good in Dean's t-shirt. I still had the goofy strip of gauze around my head, though. I unwrapped it, and was surprised to find that I didn't feel any pain in my head._ Alrighty then._ Leaving the bathroom, I tossed the empty duffel onto Dean's chair and sat back down on the bed.

I glanced up to see Dean and a doctor talking quietly while walking to my room. They entered the room, and Dean moved the duffel to assume his rightful position next to me. He grabbed my hand and gave it a squeeze. I squeezed back and looked hopefully up at the doctor, who was flipping through some papers on his clipboard. He smiled down at me and politely asked if he could look at my side. I nodded and stood up, lifting Dean's shirt only enough so the marks could be shown, not wanting to flash either Dean or the doctor.

I glanced at Dean and thanked him for the shirt. He smirked and said, "I thought you might like it." I nodded and said that I did. Very much. The doctor finally turned away from his papers and looked at my side. He sucked in a gasp, and I stared intently at his face, asking him what was wrong. His face was disbelieving, and he was prodding at my scars, and pushing around the skin that surrounded them. When he didn't answer, I got alarmed and looked at Dean, who also had his eyes on my side.

"Amazing. Miraculous. This is wonderful!" The doctor said quietly to himself. I was still confused and asked for someone to tell me what was going on.

"There's no way those should be at that advanced stage of healing, Alex." Dean said softly, his eyes still on my side. Something was nagging at the edge of my thoughts. _This sounds familiar…_ It came to me in a flash.

The article I had first read on the cusith months ago had listed advanced healing as a possible cusith ability. It had been listed right after telekinesis._ Lucky me, I guess._ I hit Dean on the shoulder with my hand, and when I had his attention, I mouthed the word 'cusith'. He raised an eyebrow and nodded slowly…then looked back at me in confusion.

I rolled my eyes at his temporary idiocy. I got Dean's attention again and pointed at my violet eyes. Dean stared for a few seconds, then his eyes widened in understanding. I flicked my eyes to the doctor who was muttering to himself and poking my side. Shrugging my shoulders to silently ask Dean what to do, he got the doctors attention and told him some made up story about how my family had overactive platelets and how we were all fast healers.

Of course the doctor didn't buy it and I asked us to stay put while he went to get his colleague. Dean took that as our cue to sneak out of the hospital. When we got to the car, he filled me in on his hunt last night. Apparently he had found the wolf dragging a woman into the woods, and Dean shot him before it did any serious damage. Turns out, that the wolf was Madison's overly friendly neighbor.

As for Sam, Madison had gotten through the ropes and attacked him. Sam was claiming that she was too fast for him to shoot her, so he just fought her off and stuffed her in a closet instead. This morning, Sam had let Madison out, and she now believed that she was a werewolf, due to the claw marks all over the walls. Sam thought that she was cured now, but we were going to have to stake her out tonight, just to be sure.

The rest of the day was spent sitting in the motel room watching TV. At least, that's what the boys were doing. I was playing around with my powers trying to make them stronger. Right now, I was in the midst of trying to get my astral self to be able to use telekinesis. It wasn't working. I had even started off easy, trying to move just a simple pebble that I had picked up from outside. I had tried about ten times already, and I was getting frustrated. I turned away from the pebble, and looked to see what the boys were doing.

Sam was stretched out across one bed and Dean and my body were on the other. I watched Dean and, well me, I guess. My head had fallen onto his shoulder when I had astralled out, and he had laid his left arm on top of my shoulders. _Hey. We look pretty darn good next to each other._ I admired the sight for a couple more seconds before moving my sight to Sam, who had been much calmer than Dean when I had told him of my new abilities.

His glassy eyes were on the TV but it was obvious that he was seeing something else. Faint creases around his eyes and mouth made him look weary and worried. I guess he liked Madison a lot more than Dean or I had thought. My heart ached for him. If this didn't all work out and we had to shoot her, it would take Sam a little time to get over it.

I quickly whirled back to the pebble and tried to send it flying. My sneak attack was unsuccessful. I pouted, and gazed down at it mournfully. _Why can't you just move a lil bit? Just a lil? Pwease?_ I finished up my internal pleading with the inanimate object and huffed out a breath. Prepared to give up for the day, I was about to return to my body when a throaty voice next to my ear caught me by surprise.

"Need inspiration?" Dean said, a smirk clearly evident in his voice. I sucked in a gasp, and as I cringed in surprise, my hands swooped up to clutch at my chest, which was now heaving. Then I heard a small clatter by the door. Both of us, looked at the door, fearing a demon attack, but nothing happened. Glaring at Dean, I stood up, reached for my pebble and…nothing. The little rock was gone.

A small spark of hope and a crazy idea flared in my mind. _Please, please, please._ I looked near the door and found the pebble. I jumped up and down, shouting "Yay!" over and over again. Dean and Sam stared at me in shock, before breaking into grins at my excitement.

"Ok, lets calm down now, we don't want to give the neighbors the wrong idea." Dean said with another smirk. Sam tried to cover up his laughter with a very unconvincing cough. I looked confusedly between them, not getting the joke.

"I don't…get…it." I said slowly. Sam said, "Aw that's cute. She's too innocent Dean. Maybe you should explain it to her." Dean grinned and shook his head. He looked at me and raised his eyebrows. "You know…" He said with a suggestive eyebrow wiggle. "Oh! Yeah…I…I get it now." I mumbled, not even trying to fight my blush. This only made them bust up even harder. I glared at them and returned to my body.

Dean stared wide-eyed at me. "Did you know that when you go back to your body, your astral body disappears in violet lights? Pretty…" Dean said in a very cute little boy voice. "Thank you Dean. You are forgiven." I said formally, with a regal sniff. "Shouldn't we go stake out now?" I asked as I saw that it was well into the night. Dean nodded, and Sam's face was instantly sad again. _Poor Sam._


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Twenty minutes later, we were sitting outside Madison's house, munching on snacks that Dean just 'had' to get. Dean had chocolate milk and a bag of Cheeto's, I had green Sour Punch Straws and a Sierra Mist, and Sam had a Coke and Starburst. Every now and then I would reach over to take one of Sam's Starbursts, who tried to whack my hand away. He stopped after I threatened to use telekinesis to put his Coke on top of Madison's house.

Just so you know, sitting in a car with two very attractive men, is not as fun as it sounds. I couldn't believe how bored I was and it was only my first stake out! _I have finally found the one thing about hunting that is not exciting. Congratulations to me._

Looking around the car for something to do, my eyes landed on the five or six Sour Punch Straws I hadn't eaten yet. I broke out into a grin as I used my telekinesis to make a circle out of three straws, a smile out of one straw, and I ripped the last one in half to make eyes. Dean was watching the house, so I had to poke him to get him to turn around and look at my new friend. He raised an eyebrow, said, "Lovely." Then turned around and went back to watching the house. I made the smiley face turn into a frowny face, and turned to Sam, who grinned at me.

"You think it's cute, right Sam?" I asked with a pout. He nodded, grin still on his face. "Thank you very much." I told him. I made more random shapes with the straws, which kept me and Sam entertained, and Dean annoyed.

"Alright what I don't get is why the wolf changed Madison instead of killing her." I said. Dean and Sam looked thoughtfully at each other, then turned to me and said, "Mating instinct." Oh. Well that made sense then. I nodded to show that I understand, then pointed between the two of them and said, "Again, creepy." Sam grinned and Dean smirked and said, "Don't worry sweetheart, you'll get used to it."

A sudden knock on the window made us all jump, and the boys both suddenly had pistols in their hands. _Jeez! How do they move that fast?_ The knocker was Madison, so Dean rolled down his window and stuttered out a 'Hey, Madison.' She asked him what we were doing, but she had an amused look on her face. Sam stuck his face over Dean's shoulder and told her that we had to make sure that our solution had worked. Madison nodded and said that she understood.

"Well, you might as well come in then, right?" She offered. Of course, Sam immediately said, "Sure, why not?" which meant that Dean and I had to go to. I mentally grumbled, but forced a smile for Sam and Madison's sake.

We all stayed up and watched movies all through the night, my head on Dean's shoulder, and Madison's on Sam's. Madison couldn't resist and chose movies about werewolves for us to watch. As each hour passed, and Madison stayed human, I could see Sam was getting more and more relieved. When morning came, and Madison had been human all night, Sam was almost giddy with relief.

Madison thanked the boys and apologized for clawing me, which I laughed off, telling her not to worry about it. She looked at Sam, and when I saw that she had a glint of lust in her eyes, I made an excuse to get me and Dean out of there. When we got outside, Dean looked at me in confusion.

"Could you seriously not see that she was about to attack him?" I asked. His eyes grew alarmed and he started running back to the house. I shouted after him, and he looked back at me. "Get back here! She's not literally going to attack him! I guess a better word would have been…oh I don't know, pounce?" I said, hoping he would get the hint.

His face spread into a slow grin, and he said "That's my boy." I shook my head and got into the Impala. "So…what are we supposed to do while we wait for them to…uh… finish up?" I wondered. Dean waggled his eyebrows suggestively at me, which I responded to by rolling my eyes. "Not gonna happen Dean." I said, even though I was smiling.

He laughed and said, "I know. So I thought we could go get lunch somewhere. Have a semi-normal date. What do you think?" His voice gave away how nervous he was and he wouldn't look me in the eye.

A series of images flashed by my mind's eye. Trent's nervous face when he first asked me out, the cusith's blade slicing through his neck, and my hand as it set the promise ring on Trent's headstone. I shut my eyes tight and took deep breaths in through my nose. _This is different. Dean can protect himself. Besides, what are the chances of our relationship lasting anywhere near as long as it did with Trent?_ I mentally nodded, and put a smile on my face. Looking up into Dean's concerned eyes, I said, "Sounds good."

He breathed a sigh of relief, and grinned even wider. As we pulled away from the curb, I looked out the window, the smile falling off my face._ This isn't betraying Trent._ I tried to reassure myself. A vicious voice in my head said, _'He died for you, and __**this**__ is how you repay him? How long has it been? Four months? I'm sure Trent will appreciate your effort to mourn his death, while you make out with a stranger.'_

I shook my head to push my guilt to the far reaches of my mind._ I'm not going to think about the future today._ I told myself. _I'll just have to take it day by day. Enjoy it while it lasts._ The Impala pulled into a diner that honestly looked better than any diner I had ever seen. And I had seen my fair shareof diners. Dean walked over to my door and it opened it for me, an apologetic smile on his face.

"Sorry about the location, but hunting isn't exactly a well paying job." He said ashamedly and looked off at the other cars so he wouldn't have to meet my eyes. I grabbed his chin and gently turned his face until he was forced to look at me.

"Thank you." I dropped a swift kiss on his lips before stepping up onto the curb to wait for him. When he walked up next to me he held up his arm for me to take, and gave me a grateful half-smile. I laid my hand on the crook of his elbow and he led us into the building.

As soon as we sat down and finished placing our orders, we started playing Truth again. I asked him what he would do if one day he didn't have to hunt anymore. He was silent at first, staring at his hands on the table.

"I would settle down. I want a family someday, I really do. I mean, sure I would never really be your stereotypical 'suburban dad'. I'd definitely keep firearms in the house, and there's no way I'd ever get rid of the Impala." He said hesitantly. "But I would love my kids. Spoil 'em rotten, most likely. I'd want to give them a better childhood than I had." I smiled and nodded. Then he asked about Trent, and my heart faltered.

"Trent and I met in our senior year of high-school. At first we were just really good friends, and then one day, it was as if a switch had flipped, and we saw each other as more than friends. The night the cusith came was the seven-month marker of us getting together. It was the longest relationship either of us had ever been in. Everybody always talked about how we were 'perfect for each other' and how it was 'meant to be'. It certainly seemed that way. But in my head I was always worrying about what would happen when we went to different colleges, or what if the relationship started to get boring or predictable. Everything that could go wrong ran through my head when we were together, but I just told myself that I couldn't know the future and I should just enjoy what I had. Eventually I did, and everything was fine. And then Trent died.

At Trent's funeral, his mother came up to me and handed me a ring. Nothing ridiculous, just a silver band. She said 'They found this in his pocket. He was planning to give it to you that night.' It was a promise ring. Every girl's dream right?" I chuckled weakly at this point, but Dean just continued to look at me, urging me on.

"I thought about the ring all through the funeral. Eventually I came to realize that I wouldn't have accepted it." Dean's face twisted in confusion. I smiled softly and explained. "I wasn't ready for it. I was getting ready to leave for college. I wasn't in love with him. There were a number of reasons that I didn't even know about until I thought it through. So the last thing I had to do before I left town was leave the ring on his headstone." I finished.

I looked out the window, afraid of how Dean would react to it all. I honestly had no idea what to expect. One of his hands slid out towards mine and engulfed them. Hesitantly I raised my eyes to Dean's, who said nothing. He only smiled at me, which I returned, and looked out the window.

Our food came, and we chatted and flirted a little more as we ate our burgers. When we finished, we went back to the motel room and watched a movie_._ Two hours later, the movie was over and Sam hadn't called us yet for a ride. Once he…erm…finished up at Madison's house, we were going straight to Bobby's.

"So what should we do now, Dean?" I asked with what I hoped was a suggestive smile.

"Well personally, I was really looking forward to playing Scrabble for the rest of the night. How about you?" He looked at me innocently, the laughter only showing in his eyes. Sitting down next to him, I ran my left hand down the side of his face, gently turning it towards me.

"No, I actually had something a little different in mind." I said. As he leaned in, my eyes shut.That is, until Dean's pocket erupted into guitar chords. Eyes still closed, I pouted, earning a chuckle from Dean as he stood up to get the phone. I slumped down into the nearby pillow, listening to Dean's side of the conversation.

"Hey Sammy, all finished up over there?" A blind man could've told that he was smirking. I could vaguely hear Sam's muffled voice on the other end.

"What? Where is she? Did you shoot her?" Dean shouted into the phone as he walked around the room, grabbing his duffel and his jacket. I scrambled out of the bed and got to the door just as Dean threw it open. I didn't know exactly what was going on but it sounded like Madison had changed again, which meant that we had to pick up Sam, then drive around and look for her._ Fun._ I thought, then immediately told myself to shut up. If Madison was still changing, then John's theory was wrong and we would have to kill Madison, which would hurt Sam.

Dean and I threw ourselves into the Impala an tore out of the parking lot. I gripped the door handle with all my might, so I wouldn't get thrown around the car. We picked up a very worried and quiet Sam from Madison's house. It was clear that he knew exactly what we had to do now. I had moved into the backseat so Sam could take his seat in the front. I reached forward and laid my hand on his shoulder, and he gently set his on top of mine, but stared sullenly out the window. Dean glanced at our hands and quickly looked away, apparently not wanting to be involved in a 'chick flick moment'. We searched the town all night, but there was no sign of Madison. All we could do was go back to the motel and sleep until we heard anything. At about ten in the morning, Sam's cell went off. It was Madison. She was scared, lost, and didn't remember much of the night before, so she had called Sam, hoping he could help fill in the blanks and give her a ride home.

Sam dropped Dean and I off at Madison's house while he went to pick up Madison. We sat on the porch, Dean with his arm around me. We were silent, mentally hardening ourselves for what had to be done. When Sam and a very withdrawn Madison pulled up to the house, it was obvious that Madison knew too. She went straight to the living room, picked up one of Sam's guns from the coffee table, and sat down on the couch. Her only request was that Sam be the one to pull the trigger. Sam was aghast. I couldn't understand why she felt that Sam needed to feel worse, but you could tell in his eyes that he had already resolved himself to it.

"Please Sam." She pleaded. "It's not that I have a death wish or something, but I don't want to live as an uncontrollable monster." Sam, Dean, and I walked into the kitchen to discuss our nonexistent options. It was heartbreaking to watch Sam try to figure a way out of it, and I almost broke into tears. Finally Dean helped him see that there was no way around it.

"How do you think she'll feel if she kills someone? Or if she infects someone else? She would always remember you as the person who let her be a danger to her friends. Do you want her to remember you that way?" Dean asked gently. Sam lowered his head and slowly shook it. Dean squeezed his shoulder, and Sam walked out of the room. Dean enveloped me in a hug and covered my ears, trying to muffle the gunshots. It didn't work.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Two days later, I drove under an archway constructed out of scrap metal. Because of how late it was, nearly ten o' clock, I could barely make out the words, 'Singer Auto Repair'. _Bobby Singer, we meet at last._ Seeing as how everything around me was dirt, I worried about the dust ruining my baby's perfect white sheen. I patted the dash and whispered, "Don't worry hon, this Bobby guy will take good care of you. I'll make sure of it." I felt a small bit of sorrow at leaving my faithful companion, but then remembered that I was going to be sharing a car with my boyfriend and his brother._ Admittedly, not a bad trade._ I thought with a smile.

I got out of the car and jogged up to the porch where Dean was waiting for me and Sam was knocking on the door. Dean grabbed my hand and we looked expectantly to the door, which swung open to reveal an older man. He had a short salt and pepper beard on a wrinkled face with sharp blue eyes. On his head he wore a dirty green trucker cap. When his eyes landed on Sam, he sighed.

"What load of crap did you boys trip into this time?" He asked gruffly. His tone surprised me. Hadn't the boys always said that Bobby was a nice guy? The boys chuckled, and Bobby opened the screen door to let us in. When the door opened, I saw a shotgun in his right hand, concealed behind his leg.

Sam walked past Bobby into the house and Dean and I followed him. When Bobby saw me he did a double take and I saw the shotgun start to rise towards me. I was about to use my telekinesis to get rid of it, but Dean put a hand on Bobby's shoulder and shook his head. Bobby hesitantly nodded, apparently deciding to trust Dean, and as soon as we were all inside the house, he dead bolted the door and poured out another salt line in front of the door.

"Somebody better start explaining." He said, his volume rising. Dean and Sam seemed almost afraid of Bobby at that moment, and I realized I was too. No matter how old this guy may look I was willing to bet that he could take me down before I could blink. Not wanting the boys to get in trouble because of me, I steeled my nerves and took a slow step forward. Bobby's eyes snapped to me and he looked me over, probably trying to see if I posed a threat.

"Hi. My name is Alexandra Page, mostly everybody calls me Alex. The boys offered to train me to hunt. We're here because we were hoping that I could leave my car with you while we're out hunting." I explained. Bobby's face was still pulled down into a scowl, and his eyes were narrowed at me. I glanced uneasily down at the rifle still clutched in the hand closest to me. He noticed this and gripped the gun more firmly. The boys decided that now would be a good time to intervene.

Dean stepped forward with a reassuring smile on his face and his hands held up in front of his chest. Sam moved quickly to my side and pulled me slightly behind him. I pulled on his shoulder to bring him down to my level and hissed that I didn't need protection. Bobby heard this and looked at me suspiciously, probably thinking that I had some sort of weapon stowed away somewhere. Little did he know that he was exactly right.

"Shut up Alex, I'm trying to be chivalrous. Or, something like that. Just don't let him shoot me, alright?" Sam said, never taking his eyes off Bobby. Dean told Bobby an abridged version of how we had met and about our hunt. Thankfully, he left out the part about me being blessed by a cusith. Bobby reluctantly accepted Dean's story as the truth and invited us into his sitting area. But sitting was impossible as almost every surface in the room was covered with ancient looking books. The books were open, closed, or in all other states of disarray. _Someone likes their research._ I had a quick mental image of Sam in 30 years, covered in dust and surrounded by books. I could feel a laugh coming on, but then I saw Bobby lunging at me with a metal flask in his hand. Without thinking, I panicked and threw up my hands. Bobby went flying across the room and his body hit the far wall with a solid _thunk_. Sam ran forward to help Bobby and Dean turned to look at me.

"What the hell was that for Alex?" Dean yelled at me. I shook my head rapidly but I couldn't answer him. All I could do was stare at my hands, feeling shocked. On the other side of the room, Bobby was back on his feet looking disheveled but otherwise unhurt, which only solidified my earlier thoughts of how tough he was. He started walking towards me, the metal flask in his right hand still, and the rifle was back in his left hand. This time, it was Dean who stepped in front of me, as Sam was trying to hold Bobby back. Dean and Bobby started yelling at each other, but they were so loud that I couldn't make out what they were saying. I looked confusedly to Sam, but he shook his head and shrugged his shoulders since he couldn't understand them either. Eventually Sam stepped in between them and pushed them apart. The men stopped yelling, but threw glares at each other around Sam.

"Who or what the hell is she?" Bobby said forcefully, jabbing a finger at me. As Dean launched into a made-up story to explain away what had happened, Bobby's eyes narrowed even more with disbelief. I reached a hand up to Dean's shoulder and when he made eye contact with me I shook my head.

"It's ok Dean. He can know." I said. I looked to Bobby and said, "About four and a half months ago, I was blessed by a cusith. I have the abilities of telekinesis, astral projection, levitation, and advanced healing. Sorry for throwing you like that. My powers seem to be affected by my emotions, and honestly, you gave me a pretty good scare." I smiled apologetically at him. I let out a sigh of relief as the hand holding the rifle slowly lowered back to his side.

"Thanks Bobby. I'll try not to- urgh!" I spluttered out. My thank you was cut off when a stream of water came flying out of the flask in Bobby's hand. Water was dripping off my face and hair, and running down my front. _Great day to wear a white tank top Alex. _Sam, always the gentleman, respectfully averted his eyes and started to pull off his hoodie. Bobby, although ignoring my chest, was scrutinizing my wet skin for no apparent reason. Dean was, well Dean. He was openly staring at my now see through shirt. I cleared my throat and narrowed my eyes at him, but he just shrugged off my non verbal threat of violence and went back to staring. Sam handed me his hoodie and I gratefully pulled it over my soaked head. Once Dean's view of my chest was obstructed his mind went back to the task at hand.

"See, Bobby? No possession here. Do you really think we would bring a demon into your home?" Dean said. _Possession?_

"Well it wouldn't exactly be the first time, would it?" Bobby said with a raised eyebrow.

"Wait a second, possession? You just hit me with holy water?" I asked. Bobby nodded, clearly unsure of where I was going with this. "Can I see it?" I asked eagerly. Bobby took a few steps back from me and clutched the metal flask protectively to his chest.

"No, go make your own!" He said. I crossed my arms over Sam's sweatshirt and looked away, pouting. Dean patted me on the head and whispered, "We'll make some later." I smiled up at him and nodded. Sam looked at us from where he had been standing throughout my moment of childish…ness. _How old are you again, Alex?_ Sam's face clearly said, 'Wow.' And not in a good way.

"Alriiight. Well, as entertaining as that was to watch, I think it's time we move on." Sam said. Turning to Bobby, he said, "Alex wants to leave her car here. And the three of us are on the lookout for a hunt, so if you've heard anything that you wanna throw our way, that'd be awesome. While I'm on the topic, we could also use a place to stay until we find said hunt." Bobby looked the three of us over, and relented. His excuse was that he wanted to hear more about this cusith to see if he could find anything in his multitude of books. He told the boys that they could use their usual rooms and to just give me any random room. The three of us walked up the stairs, while Bobby walked further into the house.

When we got to a hallway, Sam said goodnight and walked into the first room on the left. Dean continued to walk with me until we reached the third door in the hallway. The room had a single bed, a dirty window, and nothing else. I walked into the room and pulled off my tennis shoes, throwing them into the corner. Dean said that he would see me in the morning, then softly shut the door behind him. I took off my wet shirt and bra and only wore Sam's hoodie. At first I felt a little awkward, especially since it was so big, but eventually I was too cold to care. Seeing as how I hadn't brought in my clothes yet I would just have to make do with the sweatshirt. _Unless…_ I stood up and walked out of my room, looking for Dean. I shivered from the cold and wrapped my arms more securely around myself. Sam must have been using this sweatshirt for years, seeing as how it was very thin and giving me little warmth.

I approached the door closest to mine and gently laid my ear against the door. When I heard a soft scuffing sound, I knocked gently on the worn wood. Dean opened the door with a confused look, but when he saw me, he gave a soft smile. He whispered for me to 'come on in' and stepped aside as I tiptoed past him into the room. It had the same furnishing, or lack of furnishing as mine did, except Dean's shirt, leather jacket and jeans were hung over the bars at the end of the bed. _Wait a second. That's pretty much everything Dean wears._

I rapidly swung around to see Dean standing in the corner of the room in a pair of plaid boxers. Sighing, I gently laid a hand over my eyes, yet again, and sank down onto the bed.

"Sam's right." I said. "This _does_ happen to us a lot." I heard Dean laugh quietly, then felt his weight sink down into the mattress beside me.

"So Alex." His voice was waaaay closer than I thought it would be. "What can I do you for?" His voice clearly intoned the smirk on his face, and even I had to smile at his choice of words.

"Seeing as how I have next to nothing to clothe myself with, thanks to Bobby's earlier 'splash first, ask questions later' technique, I came in to see if I could borrow some clothes." I explained. "If you were wearing suitable clothing right now I would be giving you puppy dog eyes that I must have picked up from you and Sam." Dean patted me on the shoulder and he lifted himself off the bed.

"You know, Alex, you would think that you've known me long enough, and been in this situation enough, that you shouldn't have a problem looking at me." He said in a conversational tone of voice. "And now that I think about it, why are you the one that always bursts in on a bare chest? Why can't I be the one to burst in next time?" He was smirking again, and I could feel a blush coming on.

"I don't want to be disrespecting your right to self by ogling your chest, something you clearly have no problems with. Besides, after the view you got earlier, you'd think that you would be sated for at least an hour. And if you ever 'burst in' on me, I will be perfectly fine with kicking you where the sun don't shine." I threatened. I'd like to think that he backed down because he actually felt threatened, but something told me that he was probably silently laughing at me.

"Well, to clear up any problems in the future, I will be sure to knock." He said. "Also, I give you the right to ogle me anytime you want. And that's not just limited to my chest." Again, with the smirking. I rolled my eyes, but of course, I was the only one who knew about it. I didn't answer, choosing instead to just stick out my hand for the clothes. When I felt fabric land in my hand, I clutched the clothing to my chest and took my hand off my eyes so I wouldn't run into anything, which I was very prone to doing, as we all well knew. I was about two feet out the door when I heard Dean whispering my name. His head was poking out the doorway, and he was motioning for me to come back. He stuck out his hand. In it, was his jacket.

"You, uh, might want- um need, that too." He said, nodding. I noticed his slipup, but only raised an eyebrow at him. "Very drafty." He slowly nodded his head, and was about to move back into his room when I grabbed his wrist with the hand that was not holding the now heavy bundle of clothing. He looked confusedly back at me, but then I closed my eyes and swooped in to give him a quick peck on the lips. When he opened his eyes to look at me, I simply said, "Thanks Dean." Then turned and walked back to my room. I thought I heard a small chuckle, but played it up to being in a noisy old house.

I sat down on the mattress and checked out my plunder. I had a dark T-shirt that was surprisingly thick, with some white writing on it that I couldn't make out. I also had the leather jacket. Lifting it to my face, I closed my eyes and took in the ever-constant smell of Dean. _Leather and gunpowder, as always._ I smiled softly, then pulled off the hoodie. I put on the T-shirt and jacket, using Sam's sweatshirt as a pillow. Curling my arms into the jacket, I felt something in one of the pockets.

Curious as to what could be so important that Dean would keep it in his inside pocket, I reached my hand in and pulled out a piece of paper. When I saw what it was, I felt my eyebrows lift in surprise. The piece of paper was the same one that I had written my phone number on, so many weeks ago. I looked to the 'Bite Me' message I had put in the corner and grinned. Touched that Dean still kept it, and in his jacket, nonetheless, I softly said, "Oh Dean…" shaking my head, and placed the paper back into the pocket. Laying my head down on Sam's hoodie, my last thoughts before I fell asleep were entirely of Dean Winchester.

I woke up to the beginning chords of Deep Purple's "Smoke on the Water" spilling out of my cell phone. Groaning, I reached a hand out of the bed and felt around on the floor beneath me for my cell phone. I finally found it and took a quick glance at the time. The display read 3:25. _Who in their right mind thinks it's a good idea to wake me up this early?_ I read the number on the phone, but only recognized the area code, which was from my hometown of Fresno. I flipped open the top cover and lifted it to my ear.

"Hello?" I said groggily. A man's voice came from the phone and in the background I could hear faint beeps and many other voices.

"Yes, hello. Is this Ms. Uhm…. Alexandra Page?" The man asked. I could only respond with a sleepy 'mhmmm'. _Probably a telemarketer or something._ "Ms. Page this is Dr. Stephen Reynolds at the Fresno Health and Wellness Hospital." The tone he used made it sound like he was looking for confirmation, so I mumbled an 'okay' at him. "I'm afraid I have some unfortunate news to tell you." My eyes shot open and I felt a frown form on my face as I sat bolt upright in the bed.

"What's wrong? Is someone hurt? Who's hurt!" I asked frantically. _Why is this guy taking so long to just get to the point?_ I heard Dr. Reynolds take a deep breath, as if he was preparing for more questions.

"Ms. Page, there was a fatal accident at a local grocery store today. A man had a heart attack while he was at the wheel. When he died, the car began to swerve. It went over the curb and into the parking lot of the store." The doctor took another steady breath as my eyes filled with tears and I raised a hand to cover my mouth.

"Your parents were loading groceries into the back of their vehicle, and the other car struck them both from behind, pinning them in between the two cars. Their spinal cords were severed instantaneously… and they both died on the scene." Dr. Reynolds began a long string of condolences, but I could barely hear him over the pounding of my heart.

The doctor told me that the service would be held in three days, a Saturday. I hung up on him and stuck the cell phone in one of the pockets of Dean's jacket. Hugging the leather closer to me, I slid into my tennis shoes and walked quietly out into the hallway, down the stairs and out the front door. When I reached the wooden steps of the porch, I sat down on the top step. Folding my arms on top of my knees, I laid my chin on the worn leather covering my arms, and looked out into the morning.

The sky was still pitch black, so I couldn't see very far in front of me. I momentarily panicked when I remembered that Bobby's salt lines only protected past the door and not the porch, but I just shrugged off the thought. I could defend myself long enough to step back inside the house, if need be. I leaned against the railing on the porch steps and relived memories I had of my parents.

I woke again to the sun shining brightly into my eyes. Looking around, I realized I must have cried myself to sleep only a few hours earlier. I stood up and brushed off the seat of my pants, rubbing my eyes, trying to force myself to wake up fully. I gently closed the screen door behind me as I trudged back into the house. I had just put my foot on the first step when Bobby jumped out from behind a door with the gun pointed squarely at my chest. I was so tired I hadn't heard him coming, or even thought to use my powers to defend myself. Luckily, Bobby was more alert than I was, and lowered the weapon when he realized it was me. If he was surprised he certainly didn't show it. He was instead looking at me expectantly, most likely for an explanation as to why I was sneaking into his house.

"Hey Bobby. I uh, spent some time outside, sorry if I woke you up. I was just sitting on the steps, I wasn't possessed or anything." I said, giving a weak smile. He nodded cautiously and I slowly walked up the stairs, not sure if he was going to stop me. He didn't, and I sighed in relief when I got to the top of the stairs without getting shot at. Walking into my room, I gathered up my shirt and bra from the day before, which were now dry, and I changed into them. With Dean's clothes and Sam's hoodie slung over my arm, I slid on my tennis shoes and walked down into the living room. I followed the men's voices to a kitchen area. Dean and Sam were sitting in two of four chairs at a square table eating out of cereal bowls, and Bobby was digging through a cabinet looking for more cereal I assumed. I set the boys' clothes on an empty chair next to Dean, and then sat down in a chair across from Sam. Bobby offered me some cereal but I gave him a small smile and shook my head.

"That's ok, I'll just get something on the road." I told him. Sam and Dean looked sharply at me. Bobby looked to Dean.

"I thought you guys were looking for a hunt?" He asked. Dean replied, "So did I." All eyes turned to me and I took a deep breath.

"I'm going back to Fresno. I need to leave in about an hour." I struggled with my next sentence. "I'm not sure how long I'll be staying there." Keeping my eyes glued to wood grains of the table, as I waited for a flood of questions. When they didn't come, I looked up. My eyes quickly passed over Bobby and Sam, going straight to Dean. It wasn't that I didn't care what Sam and Bobby thought, it was just that Dean was the most important to me. He glanced at Sam for a few moments before turning back to me.

"Alright." He said at last. "There a reason?"

"My parents were in an accident. The funeral is in three days. The church volunteered to organize that so I could take care of all the other stuff." I looked up. " I _have_ to be there. Not just the funeral, but they left everything to me, and I have to work stuff out with the lawyer and friends and the banks and just…everything. I don't know how long it will take." I wasn't sure exactly what I was going to do about anything at that point, but I figured I'd have a ton of alone driving time to think about it. I certainly wasn't looking forward to being on my own again, but I didn't want to drag the boys along with me. Not that I would tell them no if they offered, but if they were going to come with me, it would have to be their choice. Dean nodded, then raised his eyes to mine, with a hint of a smile on his lips.

"Your car or mine?" I grinned and told him we might as well take his. Sam wanted to go with us too, and although Bobby did give me his condolences, he felt it would be uncomfortable for him to be there. I said goodbye to Bobby and thanked him for watching my car. I left the boys to say their own goodbyes to Bobby as I moved my clothes and weapons from my trunk to the backseat of the Impala.

Bobby, Sam, and Dean

Sam followed Dean out onto Bobby's porch, then the boys turned to talk to Bobby. Dean thanked Bobby for putting them up for the night and for taking care of Alex's car.

"No problem boys. If I find a hunt I can't get to, I'll send it you two. Well, three, I guess." Bobby said. He looked hesitant about saying something, but decided to just go ahead and say it. "She seems like a nice enough girl, so just, you know, keep an eye out for her." Dean and Sam nodded slowly, not sure where Bobby was going with it. "Of course." Dean said. Bobby nodded and the boys began to turn to walk off the porch.

"Ah forget it." Bobby suddenly said. Dean turned with a raised eyebrow. "When your father and I met, and started our research on the demon that killed your mom, Azazel, we noticed that whenever the yellow-eyed demon attacked a town, a specific cusith would attack the same town 23 years later. The cusith's name was Thileal."

"You think it's a coincidence?" Dean asked brusquely. Bobby gave him a look.

"Well yes, I do, that's why I'm giving you this useless information." Bobby said in a sarcastic voice. He rolled his eyes and continued. "Idget. Your father and I went over it a couple times, and we both agreed that they were definitely working together. We never figured out what the end game was though." He said. Dean gave Bobby an offended look, but still thanked him for the information, and strode quickly off the porch. Sam said his goodbyes to Bobby and had to jog to catch up with Dean. Dean was waiting for him when he finally caught up.

"So the two demons are working together. Any ideas why?" Sam asked.

"Don't ask me, you're the researcher between the two of us. What I'm more concerned with right now is if the children the demons attack are supposed to be connected, too. After the funeral, we should find the kid Yellow-Eyes attacked in Alex's town, and the kid the cusith blessed on your 23rd birthday, cause I don't want some big demon plot comin around to kick us in the rear." Dean said. Sam nodded slowly. The boys agreed to wait until after the funeral to discuss the situation with Alex. The boys walked to the car and forced tight smiles on to their faces. When Alex saw the grimaces on their faces she knew they were hiding something. She narrowed her eyes suspiciously at them.

"What's going on?" She asked slowly. Sam's 'smile' faltered and he looked to Dean. Dean was a better actor and quickly said, "Nothing! Nothing. Psh. Going on? Hah." He gave Alex a weak and failing smile. Alex raised both her eyebrows high and gave a slow nod. "_Right._ Okay. Let's pretend I believe you because we gotta get goin'." She quickly climbed in the back. The boys exchanged a quick glance before buckling in and starting up the car.

A/N: Super late, I know. But the next chapter will be up within the next two weeks because I finally finally (finally!) figured out how chapter 12 ends. Yay! Ok, please guys tell me what you think!


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Alex, Dean, and Sam

The next day, we were rolling in to Fresno. The town was big enough to be considered a metro area, but not big enough to matter to the rest of the world. We drove past the high school I had graduated from only a little over a year ago. I looked at Sam and Dean to see what they thought about my little hometown. Dean was looking around warily, with a raised eyebrow. Sam was looking at the older buildings that passed us and flipping through a pamphlet on Fresno he had picked up at a gas station earlier that morning. I smiled and shook my head. _Sam would be looking into the history of the town instead of just experiencing it._

Five minutes later, we had navigated our way to my parent's house. I shook my head to correct myself. _My house, _I thought morosely._ It's passed to me now._ We filed out of the Impala, and I had to take a minute to look over the house before I could even think about going in. If you were just a passerby glancing at the old Victorian style house, you wouldn't have even guessed that its owners had just died. The simple white house had blue shutters and paneling, with a small swing hanging from the gigantic oak tree on the front lawn.

I reached into my shoulder bag to dig out my old house key as I walked up to the front door, the boys trailing behind me. I unlocked the door, took a deep breath, and said a silent prayer before stepping over the threshold. Walking into the living room, I laid my hands on the back of the couch and glanced around the room. Everything was in the same place, except there were a lot more picture frames. They covered almost every surface available; the side tables, the TV cabinet, even the desk in front of the window with the phone on it. I stood in the center of the room, turning slowly to take in the multitude of frames as Dean let out a long, low whistle.

"I didn't even know all these pictures existed." I could hear the shock in my voice.

"Wow. Seems like you guys were a close – knit type of bunch." Dean said, as Sam glanced at a picture of my parents and me when we had backpacked to Dinky Creek. I smiled faintly.

"Yeah, they really did. Mom and Dad were always there for me, especially when Trent died. When I left, they offered to call up all of the relatives and get me a place to stay in nearly every town I might end up in." I shook my head at the memory. "Eventually I convinced them that I could, in fact, take care of myself. I wanted to take care of myself. I didn't want to have to be dependent on anyone. I did have to depend on my parents for funding though. I guess I don't have to do that anymore." I tried to smile, but I could feel it falling off my face before it was even there. I spun away from the boys to quickly wipe a tear from my eye. Brushing my hair away from my face, I felt a hand briefly touch my arm, and turned to see Dean's concerned eyes, but otherwise blank face.

"You good?" He asked gruffly, allowing no room for a chick flick moment. I nodded. His eyes quickly scanned my face, and when he apparently decided to believe me, he nodded, then turned to talk quietly with Sam. I took a few moments to calm myself down while the boys talked quietly to each other, pretending not to notice me. When I was sure I wasn't about to burst into tears, I shrugged my bag back up onto my shoulder and walked towards my room to grab a couple things.

As I walked down the hall towards my room, I glanced at the pictures on the walls. I smiled at all the pictures of my parents and their friends from my baby years. One in particular made me stop, though. I was looking at a picture of a fairly large group of people. I recognized the porch of our house, the oak tree back before it was big enough to support a swing, and my family almost immediately. Moving on to the other faces in the picture, there was a rugged faced man who looked to be about the same age as my parents. My dad was looking at him with what looked like gratitude and shaking his hand. I was sitting next to my mother on the porch, and she was holding a small boy who seemed close to the same age I was.

There seemed to be a dark shadow behind the man though, and then I realized it was another boy, who, although older than the other boy, seemed more dependent on his father. I assumed he either wanted to be close to his dad or he just didn't want to be in the picture. Either way, I didn't recognize this other family and had no memory of ever seeing them in pictures or otherwise, though the man did look vaguely familiar.

I looked at the surrounding pictures to see if they were in the other photos, but I didn't see them anywhere. I could feel myself frowning, as I looked closer at the two boys and their father. Dean cleared his throat behind me.

"Somethin' wrong?" He asked.

"I'm sure it's nothing, but I just can't seem to remember the family in this picture. They could have just had a falling out with my parents or something, but it seems unlikely that they would hang the picture up if that was the case…" I trailed off. Thinking he would somehow know my childhood better than I did, Dean walked over and looked at the picture over my shoulder.

"Recognize anyone?" I said teasingly.

"Yeah." He replied.

"I don't count." I said with a soft laugh. He shook his head, still staring at the picture.

"I'm not talking about you. I'm talking about them." He pointed to the family I couldn't identify. I looked over, not believing him. Until I saw that his face was set into a frown, his right hand absentmindedly rubbing his unshaven chin.

"Wait. Seriously? But…how is that possible?" I asked as my mind raced to catch up with Dean's statement.

"That's us. Me, Sammy, and Dad. Thing is, I don't remember this and I don't think I ever read about it in Dad's journal. Of course, there are some pages missing that we never found." As Dean continued to talk, it morphed from a conversation between the two of us, to him rambling under his breath to himself. Seeing that I was no longer involved in the discussion, I declared that I was going outside to go get Sam. Dean off handedly waved his hand at me in acknowledgement as he continued to stare at the picture and frantically search through his memories. Nodding, I backed up slowly.

"Alrighty then." I exhaled and walked out the door. I glanced up at the cloudy gray sky as I strode to the Impala. I could see Sam sitting in the passenger's seat, typing away at his laptop. He looked up when he saw me coming and rolled down the window expectantly.

"Dean and I found something a little…odd. You should probably come check it out. We're not sure what to make of it." I told him. He agreed and closed his laptop. I walked a little ways towards the door, waiting for Sam to catch up. Unsurprisingly, his long legs helped him make short work of it.

When we got back inside the house, Dean had pulled the picture frame off of the wall and was sitting on the couch in the living room, flipping through John's journal. Sam and I sat on either side of Dean and I passed the picture to Sam, whose face took on a shocked expression when he immediately recognized his family. With a sigh, Dean shut the book and laid it on the table.

"There's nothing in here. Dad either wrote it on one of the missing pages or he didn't write it at all." Dean said. He seemed to be talking more to Sam, who was trying to pass the picture back to me around Dean's head. This was especially difficult as Dean was still jabbering to Sam about how frustrated he was that they hadn't found the missing pages yet. Thanks to his height, he had to pass it to me at a downward angle. As it tilted, the picture shifted in its frame, revealing the corner of a white paper. Frowning, I grabbed the picture frame and began to take out the back of the frame. Sam's reach around his head clued Dean in to my actions. Both boys leaned in as I pried the back of the frame away, and pulled out the folded slip of paper. Opening it revealed a letter addressed to myself from my parents in my mother's handwriting. Shocked, I mumbled a quick 'excuse me' and walked quickly from the room.

I tried to read the letter but realized my hand was shaking too hard for the lines to stay straight. Closing my eyes, I took deep breaths until I was calm enough to give the letter another try.

_Alexandra-_

_Considering how cliché the whole 'If you're reading this, I'm dead' bit is, let's just skip that, okay honey?__**-**_

The statement was so like my mother that I couldn't help but smile. I could picture her, hear her voice, and see her quirks in my head. A quick pain tore through my chest as I ached to have her with me again. Eager to hear from her, I continued to read.

-_I hope we were on good terms before your father and I passed. I also hope that you knew how much we loved you. Never doubt that, darling. Now I don't want you feeling too sad for us, hon, because you know we're in a better place and are much happier. Well, now that we've told you what you hopefully already know, let's get to the most important reason for this letter, starting with the family in the picture._

_The man is John Winchester and the two boys are his sons, Samuel and Dean. Dean is a few years older than you and little Sammy is only about a year older than you. I hope you get to meet John one day, honey. He's such a brave man, and you wouldn't believe what he does for a living. Well, if you could consider diner food, seedy motels, and weekly hospital visits a living. Anyways, I hope you're sitting down because this will be a shock to you. John Winchester hunts monsters. And by monsters, I don't just mean creatures, but spirits, demons, zombies, and even ghouls as well. He got into what he calls 'the business' after his wife was murdered by a demon. Ever since her death, he has trained himself and his boys to hunt these things down, and kill them. Which brings me to how we first met John._

_It was a week after your ninth birthday. John introduced himself and asked if he could come in and speak with us, saying that it was a matter of great importance, and it concerned you. Your father, of course, refused, but something about the way he spoke made me fearful that he was dead serious. I pleaded with Frank to just listen to what the man had to say, and suggested he keep 911 dialed and his finger on the call button. He reluctantly agreed, and that was the day we learned the truth about the world around us._

_John told us that a psychic friend of his (yes honey, a real psychic) had been helping him keep tabs on the demon that killed his wife, Mary, and had seen that the demon would attack our town. At first, we were worried that he was telling us that the demon was going to kill you, but John assured us that you weren't in any danger. The demon he was tracking had already attacked our town. He told us that his psychic friend had had a second vision about a girl being hurt by a second demon. John couldn't explain exactly how her visions worked because he didn't completely understand it himself, but all the psychic had been able to tell him was a name and a date: Alexandra Page, instead, it was most likely either your father or I who was going to be attacked, and not by the same demon. John said that he and his friend Bobby had a theory about a second demon that was in league with the first demon. _

_As this whole 'first demon, second demon' thing is going to get very confusing, I'll just use their names: Azazel and Thileal. Azazel is a very powerful demon, while Thileal is a lower level cusith demon, chosen by Azazel to assist in his plan. John and Bobby didn't know what the plan was, but they had figured out their attack patterns. Azazel would attack on the night of a child's sixth month birthday, kill the mother, and start a fire in the nursery. Then, exactly 23 years later, Thileal would 'bless' a teenager from the same town with an ability of some sort and kill a loved one of that teen._

_By the time John had finished telling us this, we'd figured out what John had come to tell us. Thileal would bless you, and his victim would most likely be either your father or I. Your father thought John had come to save us and began to thank him, but John apologetically said that he couldn't save us, because the demon's attack was inevitable. The only consolation John could offer us was the off chance that the demon would attack someone else you loved, instead of us._

_John seemed to be able to tell that your father was becoming more and more skeptical, and said that he would only burden us with one more piece of information before he walked out of our lives. He first apologized for possibly sounding uncaring, but admitted to us that he hadn't come to save us. He had come because the psychic had seen that you would be a big part of his boys' lives. She couldn't tell in what way, just that your meeting them would alter them irreversibly, although if it would be for better or for worse was unknown. John said he had something to ask of us, something he said he knew would be hard for us, because he knew he would have to do it some day too: John asked us to let you go. If there ever came a time in your life when you wanted to leave us, we were supposed to let you go, no matter how long you were gone or how far you went. He felt that that was the only way to ensure that 'fate' or some other force would bring you three together someday, as our town is so low on the demon/creature radar that it's unlikely the Winchesters will ever need to come back here._

_So we let you go, honey. And now it's time for you to let us go. I think I've covered everything I know in this letter. If you have any questions, there's always the Winchesters. Everything of ours is now yours of course, but I would suggest you get out of this town. Firstly, because the demons would look for you here (or so John says) and secondly, because you're independent now and you need to find yourself. And honestly, I don't think you'll find it here. Good luck my darling._

_Love Always,_

_ Frank and Lucy_


End file.
